Encounters (Stendan AU)
by Busman's Holiday
Summary: Ste and Brendan AU multi-chapter fic. Brendan and Ste's separate lives keep colliding at various points in their lives and however much they try to keep things separate, they keep crossing paths. It seems like fate but these intense moments are all too fleeting, especially when Brendan has a family to think about. But the more Brendan sees him, the more he can't forget him.
1. Chapter 1

_**Summary: Brendan and Ste's separate lives keep colliding at various points in their lives and however much they try to keep things separate, they keep crossing paths. It seems like fate but these intense moments are all too fleeting, especially when Brendan has a family to think about.**_

_**A/N: Another new AU multi-chapter series from me! This wouldn't leave my head. I am aiming to update at least once a week but I cannot promise. I hope you enjoy anyway! **_

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**Encounters**

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_**Prologue**_

_**2004 – June - Brendan**_

The air weighed heavy with a cloying heat, one likely to stick shirt collars to the back of necks and for the first time since moving to England a fortnight ago, Eileen's stomach bursting with another boy, Brendan thought about finding a lad to spend the night with. It was different here, it was going to need thought and care and planning. It wasn't like at home where he knew where to go and who he could trust to keep their pants off and mouth shut. Looks weren't going to matter much tonight. He'd starved himself for most of Eileen's pregnancy, knowing what God did to their Niamh to punish him. Selfishness had won out again and his urges came in violent, crippling waves.

Danny Houston's head poked into his office. He still spoke like he walked the London streets even though the reality was he'd been running the Liverpool club since Brendan had been at school. Since then, he'd taken on Brendan as something of a protégé. It was as if running this club: _Ravens_, was something of a test.

"Brendan," - he said, gravelly voiced from twenty years smoking – "there are some little shits hanging around the car park. Get rid of them, will ya?"

They had bouncers – more like bruisers – to sort out any trouble at night but it was barely half past ten in the morning, so it was just him and Danny in the club and the cleaners. Brendan was on a month's trial of running the club before Danny would take a hands off approach and let him manage it alone. They were at the stage that he felt practically work experience, doing whatever Danny asked. But at the end of it, in another fortnight's time, he'd be a twenty three year old man with a house, a wife, two kids and control of a nightclub. He would be a man. A real man.

The car park at the back wasn't really theirs as such (after all, who _drives_ to a nightclub?) but local businesses rented the over cover spaces for their own vehicles. Danny was a paranoid man and had an eye on the CCTV and his Mercedes at all times. Brendan's car was still a hire vehicle. But as Brendan left the building, sweating as he climbed down the fire escape stairs, he could see the crowd of school uniformed youths were sitting on top of _his_ car, admiring Danny's Merc and passing around a two-litre bottle of cider and a joint. Their shirts were rolled up to their elbows, the heat making their gelled spikes wilt like failed hedgehogs and the maroon blazers were bundled by backpacks on the ground. They didn't hear him coming at first, sharing earphones stuck into a portable CD player but then his bellow reached their ears at last. They passed around a lads' mag and Brendan heard glimpses of their names, short pikey ones like: Shane or Wayne or Lee or Ste.

One of the lads looked right at him.

"Hey!" he cried. "Go on, fuck off!"

It didn't have the threatening presence that he hoped for, and he mustered all the intimidating swagger he could. They can't have been much older than fourteen, but they laughed it off, gathering up their things and picking up into a sprint when they knew he was about to chase him. They'd left an empty bottle of cider and chewing gum wrappers by his car, and he lobbed the bottle after them. Cursing.

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_**2007 – April - Brendan**_

From the moment Brendan arrived he could sense the night was going to be one to drown in booze and try to forget. It wasn't the sort of bar he would even visit to use the loo, from the tacky and blinking neon signage, to the peeling posters, to the clientele – it all felt wrong. He was even surprised it was Danny's sort of place, but then there was that edge to him – the edge that he tried to ignore. The grimy underbelly of darkness.

Danny clapped him on the back. In a week's time Danny would be married but Brendan guessed not much would change. Brendan knew none of the mistresses would be invited to the wedding but it was going to be difficult to know how to cover Danny's misdemeanours in the best man speech. Still, he couldn't judge Danny for sleeping around behind his fiancée's back; a month didn't go by when Brendan wasn't in bed with a lad. Unlike Danny, however, his dirty secrets stayed secret.

"Welcome to paradise, mate!" Danny said, as the four of them – the four men deemed worthy enough for a stag do – entered the dingy strip club.

It had to be worse than Brendan imagined. Girls dressed in nothing more than heels and jewellery, with porn star hair and make-up lounged over men with wandering hands. It was a parade of all that wrong with humanity. Music pumped through sweat and perfume and through this haze Brendan saw curtained off rooms at the back when men exited with creased clothes and girls went out back to swill mouth wash.

Danny was a regular, he had a reserved booth and girls already and waiting. Brendan's stomach heaved. He turned gum over and over, clenching his jaw as a girl wrapped her arm around his neck, a hand on his thigh.

"You're a lucky boy, Brendan," Danny said, pouring the champagne. He was the groom to be and had two blondes on his lap. He pointed at the girl beside Brendan, whose breasts pressed into his side. "Gina's one of the best." At this he gave Gina a wink and then whispered something into the ear of one of his girls.

"Danny boy!" Brendan said. The laugh came with a sickening clench of his chest. "You know I'm a married man with kids. A good Catholic boy." He had a wedding ring and a crucifix to prove it. The cross on his necklace would hang over the spine over whatever boy's arse he was pounding that week.

Gina's lips were kissing his neck. He could almost feel her creeping over his skin like a rash. Her hand wandered the length of his thigh, aiming to tease his flaccid cock. He had an image to protect, one for Danny's respect and benefit so when Danny didn't buy his family man routine, he turned to Gina, threading his fingers into her hair and opened his mouth against hers. She was almost as plastic and false as he was, her well-acted sighs in tune with the rehearsed motions of Brendan's mouth. He would kiss Eileen like this later – over thinking, over gentle. Cold. Gina's hand went to his cock. He felt her pause slightly when she felt nothing, so Brendan pushed for a more forceful kiss, raising his hand to her breast. He felt nothing but pity and disgust for the whole routine.

When he felt as if he'd put in enough of a performance, he withdrew, downing as much champagne as he could fit into one mouthful. He pushed a tenner at Gina and told her to get him a double whiskey. The other men in the group were pre-occupied, although he seemed to have met Danny's seal of approval for now and the spotlight was off.

The men in the club were of a certain type. Overweight or bald or suited and middle aged. Brendan was none of those things. He saw the room for what it was: miserable women and money. There was nothing sexy about it, even if he had fancied women he knew what it was like to act – how shallow and lonely and soulless it was. Apart from the lecherous guys waiting for their crotches to be tantalised with a dance, Brendan could see only two other men in the place: two barmen. One was old and overworked. It looked as though he misread the job description and turned up at the wrong club, or he'd been here since it opened and watched it degenerate into a sleazey sex club. The other guy he couldn't see from his position, but he was the one who served Gina and she returned to Brendan, obviously keeping his change as she handed over the whiskey.

He threw the whiskey down in two goes. He could feel Gina restless against him like she'd been told to give him extra attention. Brendan's throat tightened. Then he watched Danny stand, an erection visible through his trousers and two colours of lipstick smeared across his mouth.

"Come on lads," Danny said, "Let's get these girls out the back for the real show."

Gina's hands were all over him – one under his shirt and the other valiantly trying to summon life to his cock. It wasn't happening. It only happened at home when he built himself up to it. Then it was brief and strained at the best of times. He had to think of lads he once had, lads he hoped to have. He thought of fair hair and gangly limbs and smiles that were impish and wide. He thought of smooth arses and small waists and warm thighs.

He had his chest puffed out all macho and arrogant again. It was a well-worn mask but underneath it he was shrinking, caving. He shook his head in Danny's direction. "Danny Danny, my wife." He knew Danny would think of him the names that were carved into his eyeballs: poof and pansy and queer, but it was something he could grit though rather than sitting through a blowjob he didn't want.

"Maybe you should invite your bird along next time – make it a threesome!" Danny said, laughing. He took Gina's hand and she slipped around him. "I'll take her off your hands. You know where we are if you change your mind."

Brendan gagged on his own smile as they disappeared out of sight and he sat himself at the bar. The older man served him another double and then the barman he hadn't seen appeared next to him, obviously on a break and opened up a can of coke. The fizz sprayed on Brendan and the lad looked up. His smile dimpled his face, spreading to fill half of his face.

"Oops," he said, looking in Brendan's direction and the splatter of fizz. His nose scrunched. He looked like a teenager, barely old enough to serve alcohol. "Sorry."

"You're alright," Brendan said. He wasn't one for small talk. He watched the boy slurp at his drink, his back arched as he leant on his elbows, the bar stool pulled back so he could slump.

"Not seen you here before," he said, suddenly striking up a conversation. Brendan turned his head and got a full look at him. An inch of his back sat exposed where his t-shirt had ridden and said t-shirt flapped around his arms. He was skinnier than the full fat coke lead him to believe.

"Cos I ain't been here before," Brendan said. He rolled his glass forward for another refill, folding another note in the barman's direction. "Stag night," Brendan said, offering extra information which wasn't his usual style of conversation. Something about this boy's expression, the blue eyes and the pouty mouth – perhaps the way he subtly clocked Brendan's wedding ring and said nothing – made him say more than he expected to.

"No private dance then?" the lad asked, nodding to the curtained off area. He'd obviously seen the stag party head in there without Brendan.

"Do you always ask this many questions to your customers?" Brendan said. There was an edge to his voice, but it was light enough to prove he was only half kidding about wanting to be left alone. Something about the boy meant he kept watching him. He fidgeted back and forth on his bar stool.

The older barman intervened. "Ste," he warned, "Leave the gentlem'n alone."

"Keep your 'air on, I was only asking," the lad Ste replied, flicking the ring pull back and forth. Brendan remembered the game from high school where you had to pull the ring of a can back and forth chanting the letters of the alphabet and wherever it broke was the initial of your future wife. He remembered hoping the ring pull would never break.

When the older man disappeared, Brendan's eyes drifted over to Ste again. He was nodding along to the track playing. It was like he wasn't even noticing the environment, the girls. Brendan thought this would be most teenage lad's fantasy but it was just wallpaper to Ste. The girls seemed to treat him like a little brother if they passed, squeezing his shoulder or kissing his cheek.

"How did you end up in a place like this then?" Brendan asked after catching his attention when he stared at him a little too long. Ste seemed unfazed.

"Just needed the money, didn't I? Got myself into trouble last year and well, job's a job." He shrugs. "I could ask the same to you." He grinned, hiding behind his can.

"Wha'd you mean?" The alcohol has made whatever tight suspicion that would usually occur after a question like that disappear. The boy's gobby inquisition intrigued him.

"Most men are all…" Ste hung out his tongue, rolling his eyes back.

"I ain't most men, Steven," Brendan said, his elbows pushed into the bar top to match Ste's. He slurred over the top of his whiskey glass. He started to notice the red wetness of Ste's lips and way his fringe lays a soft shadow on his face.

He hadn't noticed that Steven had angled himself a bit closer, just that his eyes had creased when he smirked. "D'you want another drink?"

"Are you old enough to serve me?"

"According to what I told my boss, yeah I am."

Brendan huffed with a brief laugh and watched the lad vault over the bar to pour him a drink. He studied Steven, the way his tongue peeked out in concentration and felt a growing clench of arousal grip hold of him. Steven popped a straw in the whiskey and sucked a little to try it and winced. Brendan, enraptured, didn't even notice Danny and the group emerge from the private area.

He took the drink from Ste and their hands touched. Ste went to move away, but Brendan gripped his wrist. "Brendan Brady."

"Ste." He licked his bottom lip.

No sooner had that skin contact begun, did it end. Danny thumped him on the shoulder, the macho aggression had escalated, and he'd found a new woman to wrap herself around Brendan. Steven disappeared back to work and the new girl found what she was after when she wound herself against Brendan's lap.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you for the warm and generous compliments for the first chapter of this fic! I hope the differences from canon and the jumping through years is not too difficult to follow. I look forward to hearing your comments._

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**Chapter Two - 2008**

_**2008 – September – Ste**_

"And the direct debit came through okay?" Ste asked, navigating his way through the pastel coloured corridors. There were signs up everywhere asking for phones to be switched off but it was a quick call and he ignored them. He was pretty sure he'd overheard that it was all a big myth anyway: that phones could interfere with machines. He hadn't heard of anyone dying from it in their hospital anyway.

"It's all fine, Ste. The money came through and I used it to take Leah to Mothercare. She's growing so fast, I can't keep up. Dad's let me work the weekends at Washed Up so I've got a bit extra right now," Amy said. He knew it must be hard for her with a young kid, which is why he felt so guilty borrowing from her in the first place. But coming out of juvvie he'd worked one scummy job to the next just to move out from his Mum and Terry's place. Borrowing a little from Amy, knowing she lived comfortably at home with her middle class la-di-da parents, was a necessary move, even if it meant he had to make do in a bedsit in the roughest part of town. It felt like paradise to be away from his mum and Terry. Besides, Amy had a soft spot for Ste, ever since she realised he was good with kids (in particular, her daughter who had been the result of sex in the park with a lad called Billy) and their brief spell of hormonal snogging at school resulted in him confiding in her that he thought he was gay. Turned out her sister had the same with her boyfriend, only she caught him at it with a bloke.

While they were still at school and Ste was desperately trying to impress and fit in, he'd stolen a car and taken Amy and friends for a ride, leading to an accident. Amy and her unborn baby hadn't been badly hurt but their friendship took time to repair once he was released from young offenders. It was only when she saw he'd shed the bad boy image and interacted with her daughter Leah in a soft way that they had grown close. She'd seen first-hand how easy it would have been for Ste to slip back into his old ways if he had to live under Terry's roof again, so she had loaned him the contents of her savings account while he worked nights in sleazy strip club to pay rent on his own place. Now, working at the hospital, he felt relieved that his wage split into a more manageable sum, leaving him money to eat and warm up the bedsit.

It was an early start at the hospital and he signed in, made his way to the staff room to change and headed to the laundry first and then round to each ward to deliver clean linen. He didn't think he'd get on working in a hospital initially. The rules, the routine, the complex systems of hierarchy. But he'd warmed to it – the responsibility. He liked helping the old dears from department to department, scooting wheelchairs and beds around corners and through swing-back double doors. He liked when they gave him boiled sweets or moaned about their doctors and nurses. He liked trying to calm down the kids and ask them questions about their injuries and bandages, although he wasn't supposed to and sometimes got a raised eyebrow from a parent or two. He felt important, valued. Needed.

He found the other porters rather reserved and monosyllabic and usually sat with the nurses at lunch. He couldn't share their political grumbles or tiredness over the long hours but he found it interesting and absorbed their stories and opinions. He was part of the community. Plus, one of the male nurses in the hospital had caught his eye and the girls teased him about it. He was tall and dark haired, cute but with an edge of rough stubble.

"Oh you're a gorgeous bloke," Sandy, one of the nurses had said, squeezing together the spongey contents of her sandwich. "Go for it."

He'd gone all red in the ears. Sure he was all gob - flirty and daring when he got the opportunity - but anything more than that had alluded him. He hadn't felt the desire to go for something – someone- in a long time. Someone having an interest excited him and he put it down to getting no attention as a kid. That's what made him a bad kid and that's what made him look for love in the wrong places. Like juvvie, like in the strip club where straight men gathered, like fit male nurses who were way out of his league.

He had to transport Mrs Murray to the radiology department after she'd taken another fall. She had become something of a regular but was upbeat despite the way she injured herself so often. The X-Ray department was on the same mint green corridor as MRI and CAT scanning. Ste wasn't sure what all the departments meant when he first joined and with his dyslexia, all the abbreviations just seemed to be part of the world's most confusing game of Countdown, but once he'd grown closer to the staff in the canteen he felt brave enough to ask. He had all the lingo now.

The wheelchair had a dodgy front wheel that made manoeuvring Mrs Murray like haphazard game of Supermarket Sweep. She was going to be early for her appointment and with the wheel squeezing like a trapped budgie, Ste stopped pushing and crouched down by her feet to see if he couldn't free up the caster. Just then a family passed, walking down the adjacent corridor – probably to one of the other X-Ray rooms he guessed. A little one, couldn't have been much older than four, hopped behind, but it was clear it wasn't him with the injury. His brown mop of hair bounced along with him.

"Padraig!" the father snapped and the boy chased up with his family. Something about the man's gravelly tone, echoing down the corridor system, seemed faintly familiar, but that was soon forgotten as Mrs Murray patted him on the shoulder, asking if he was having any luck with the wheel.

"Nah, it's busted," Ste said. He craned his next in the direction of the other corridor, hesitated and then the squeak-eek continued as he pushed Mrs Murray down the rest of the tunnel.

Normally he'd be paged away to help out somewhere else in the hospital but he'd been asked to stay with Mrs Murray to take her back to A&E when she'd had her X-Ray, so he sat on the vinyl backed seating, picking at the crumbly foam innards while he waited. Ten minutes long minutes had passed and he grew restless, casting his gaze down the length of the corridor. It was at that moment a figure walked the t-junction of the corridor and Ste knew exactly who it was.

_**Brendan**_

The puff of air vibrated his lips with his legs jittering up and down. "Can't stand hospitals," Brendan said, crossing his arms over his chest. He stood and walked the width of the corridor.

Eileen plonked Paddy onto the chair beside her. She gave Brendan a glare. "You're not helping," she said, jabbing her head towards Declan. His leg was propped up under a cushion and despite having a Gameboy glued to his hands, he winced now and again at his leg's twinges. "We spend half our days in and out of her as is, we don't need you moaning about it n'all."

"Jesus Eileen, I was only saying!"

"And I'm only saying too. Bloody NHS," she said, "I just wanna find out what's wrong with him instead of having all these tests and him still ending up with broken bones."

"It'll get sorted," Brendan said, rocking on his soles and moving out the way for a trolley being taken down the corridor.

She scoffed. "That's alright for you to say, you're not the ones getting funny looks from the teachers at school when he comes in with another cast on his arms or legs." He knew there had been parent consultation meetings where social workers had sat in and asked questions. He hadn't been there and sometimes he wondered dimly if the staff thought it was him, knocking his boy about.

He had to move again, this time for a young woman being pushed in a wheelchair holding a bundled up baby in her arms. Her saw Eileen watch as she was wheeled by. He saw her briefly touch her stomach and a knot of dread clogged up his throat. He couldn't have that conversation again.

He attempted to lighten the mood and stepped forward to ruffle Declan's hair. "I told you to go easy on the footie, didn't I, mate – eh?"

"Maaam," Paddy whined, pulling on his mother's sleeve. "I'm hungry."

"I'll go get us something from the vending machine," Brendan said, jumping onto the escape route.

The hospital should have been more familiar to him that it was, but Eileen was right, it was her that spent most of the time her ferrying Declan back and forth for his various tests. Balance problems they said, but they were no closer to offering a permanent solution. Brendan had tried blocking it out, pretending it wasn't happening. He didn't want his boy to stand out, to be different.

He tried studying the signs so that he wouldn't get lost on the way back but luckily there was a trio of vending machines not too far from where they had been sitting, just a junction away. He stood, umming and ahhing over drinks and sweets. The tea and coffee were godawful, chalky and watery, so he opted for water, juice and pop for Eileen. Once he'd pressed the buttons he knew she'd only get irritated that hadn't got her a diet version. He paid for three packets of crisps and three chocolate bars (he wasn't hungry), but the machine didn't seemed to like bulk orders so began whirring and groaning.

"Fuck's sake," Brendan said, growling at the machine. He shook it, giving it a hefty kick. The metallic clang juddered around him and he was sure there'd be pointed looks if there were more people around.

Someone else came up beside him. "You gotta treat him nice if you want him to behave."

Brendan turned and came face to face with the barman from the strip club, Steven. He was dressed in the shapeless blue hues of a porter's uniform and leant up against the other vending machine. His smile had curved up at the corners, but there was still a slight pout in the way he shook his head. It had been a year, more than that, since Danny's stag do, but his face had been imprinted in Brendan's memory. Brendan stared, seeing how the boy's eyes disappeared under endless lashes when he blinked.

"The machine," Ste clarified, nodding at the vending machine Brendan grappled with. "It'll just eat up your money if you shake it."

Brendan found himself unable to speak and when he did, he had to clear his throat. "I _was_ being nice."

"You kicked it," Ste said, smirking. He raised his eyebrows in a knowing way. "I'd hate to see you being nasty if that's _nice_."

"Are you gonna help me out or what?" Brendan asked. He looked at Ste's ID badge and lifted it to read. "Mr Hay, hospital porter. Nice picture, by the way."

Ste shook his head, rolling his eyes. It seemed he wasn't used to compliments. He moved Brendan out the way, warm broad hands on the tops of his arms and clambered to the floor. He was nimble and energetic – a million miles from how Brendan felt.

"Bit of a career change from the strip club, isn't it?" Brendan asked staring down on him as he wriggled his hand up the vent and into the mechanisms of the machine. His tongue appeared in his concentration; it looked endearing.

"I dunno," Ste said. He scrunched his nose like he had done back when he was in the club. It was an image Brendan had seen repeated in his memories of the night. The dimples and the small of his back. The way he sucked at a straw. "I got a bit bored looking at boobs every night." His eyes sparkled. "Know what I mean?"

Brendan hummed, flapping about on his feet. His teeth ground together and his silence said everything a straight man wouldn't. What was the use anyway? Ste could probably smell it on him. Ste pressed a button inside and the machine rumbled, dropping chocolate and crisps into the tray in satisfying clunks.

"I figured you must've moved on," Brendan said as Ste jumped to his feet, pink in the face and brushed himself down. It occurred to Brendan that he hadn't thought twice about jumping in and scrabbling down on the floor. He gathered Brendan's items and handed them over. There was a giggled moment of awkwardness as Brendan juggled with all of the snacks.

"Oh? What, you came back to the club?"

Brendan swallowed and his eyes flicked down to the floor. Was he really being this open? This obvious? His wife and kids – his sick kid – were metres away and he was as good as admitting he went back, looking for a screw. "Just one more time. Yeah."

Ste's brow creased, his chin tilted up. There was a smugness in the way he stood, arms folded. His elbows were baby pink. "Oh yeah? I didn't really think it was your sorta place."

"It wasn't," Brendan said. When he looked down at the floor again, he saw their feet pointed close. "But I was looking for some company." Of course, going back hadn't just meant admitting he was after a night with a flirty seventeen year old boy with his family at home, it had meant going back to that place and when Steven wasn't there it meant trying to cover up his enquires about the soft haired barman by letting one of the girls put her hands on him. It had been a crushing night through and through.

Ste's teeth scored his lower lip. "Boss found out I was seventeen, didn't he?" He grinned, shifting his gaze up and then down again. Brendan felt the gaze like a rush of heat from his cock outwards. "So you didn't find any other company then?" Steven lingered on the word company, knowing all its meaning.

"Not the company I was after, no."

A packet of crisps fell from Brendan's clutches and sat guiltily between them.

"You better go and feed your family," Ste said, stepping back. There was a definite purpose, a barrier, in the way he said 'family'. "It was nice to see you again, Brendan."

Brendan acknowledged his comment with a nod and then just as Ste turned to leave, Brendan called out to him and threw him one of the chocolate bars. "To say thanks," he said, "See ya, Steven."

It was only when he began walking back to Eileen and the boys that he realised he'd given Ste his wife's bar of chocolate.

_**2008 – December – Brendan**_

"What's with you?" Eileen asked, fiddling with the radio in the car. Wham's Last Christmas filled the space between them in the front seats and after his long day being poked and prodded by various experts, Declan had nodded off in the backseats. Paddy was with his granny and they'd planned to pick him up and stop by MacDonalds as a treat.

"Nothing," Brendan replied. He was concentrating on the road, it was icy. "I'm worried about taking time off to go to the hospital with yous, that's all."

"You offered. You said you wanted to go," Eileen said.

"You know what Danny can be like," Brendan said. His knuckles were white and yellowish on the steering wheel.

"He knows you've got extra responsibilities and a sick son. Once we've got these results back maybe we can get somewhere," Eileen said. She seemed to soften, putting her hand on his knee. He felt stabs of guilt; it was hardest on her seeing Declan so helpless. He felt she blamed herself. "You were on edge the whole time we were there."

"I said it's nothing, will you just drop it?"

Declan stirred in the back. Eileen looked out the opposite window and placed her hand back into her lap.

_This year to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special._

Brendan followed the red and yellow sign to the drive-thru thinking about how he'd felt driving to the hospital that morning. How his hopes had been knotted, tied to a chance meeting that never came. Steven hadn't been at the hospital and his mood had come crashing down as soon as they exited from automatic doors.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for the lovely comments. I really enjoy reading them. Hope you like the next one!

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**Chapter Three**

_**2009 – December – Eileen**_

She sneezed, sending a tidal wave of germs across a pile of unwrapped presents and rolls of cheap wrapping paper. It wasn't not just the cold that was dragging her down, it was Brendan too. She married him when he was moody and he hadn't changed, but sometimes she felt like the only person in the marriage. He had his moments, times where she could feel a warm belly of love for him, but then he could be distant and cold and she felt it was back to the beginning again when she first fell for him, first tried to get his attention. Lately she had felt him restless, like a chained storm. She wondered if she was the chains.

She had felt queasy this morning when she woke up, had crouched over the toilet and spat wine induced bile into the basin. But it was nothing more than a lurch in her stomach, nothing like anything she'd wanted. Brendan had seemed concerned when she emerged from the bathroom and kissed her newly mint mouth. The fact he was so caring made her almost forget how grouchy he could be, especially at Christmas. She could tease him about it sometimes, pinch his cheeks and call him a scrooge but like other occasions, sometimes he had no time for her.

In the end the queasiness had rotted into a headache and what with a winter cold setting in, she looked at her list for the Christmas shopping meekly. She'd promised to take the boys into town to get their gifts for her parents and see Santa if the queues weren't too long. She hated being a mother that broke her promises. She couldn't be that kind of mother. She already felt she had to do double the parenting as it was.

She sat at the dresser, pulling at the sickly-grey skin under her eyes. She could see Brendan's reflection in the mirror. Even when she felt like this and it was difficult between them, she could look at him and still think he was gorgeous. She even liked the moustache of his, even though her friends had laughed about it. They'd made drunken, embarrassing comments about their sex life and the sensations it must give her. She didn't like to admit they rarely ventured into anything more than missionary. She'd teased along with them, her mouth aching from empty smiles.

Eileen rubbed her head against her forehead, sighing tearfully.

"What's wrong?" Brendan asked. His voice was soft like it was when they first woke. She liked that voice of his best.

"I feel awful," she said, turning to face him. "And I need to go into town for some Christmas bits. And I promised the boys…" She raised her arms in defeat, clutching a tissue in her hand.

Brendan came over, pulling her to his body. He had a look on his face which she couldn't place. There had always been a sadness about him even when they first met. She'd accepted it as part of his mysterious charm, hoping one day to coax that anguish out of him but privately she worried that sadness deepened as he grew old. "I'll take them out. You put your feet up." He pressed a kiss to her head. He never usually offered to look after the kids; he was very traditional when it came to the place of men and women. She had never minded much; he looked after them and paid for all her nice things. Of course she was materialistic – he gave her everything she wanted.

Eileen couldn't remember a time he was as tender as this. Well, she remembered her birthday and the way he made love to her then, but then it felt like he was trying so hard to make it gentle that it didn't feel natural. This felt automatic, it felt like a marriage should feel.

"Really?" she said, slumped against him. "Are you sure?"

"They're my kids too, Eileen. I can manage."

_**Brendan**_

Fucking car had fucking broken and Brendan said all of those words under his breath, taking Paddy in hand as they walked to the bus stop. He couldn't pull out and let everyone down now that the boys were dressed up to their eyeballs in scarves and hats and giddy at the prospect of Santa. Declan was old enough to know the truth about where his presents came from but he had kept his mouth shut for his brother's sake.

Brendan had battled to get Padraig into his coat with Eileen watching on. She made it look so easy and it was like she was judging him and his incompetence. Seeing her ill this morning had kicked in his instincts to protect her. Loving her in the way a husband should, the way a man should, didn't come naturally, but looking after her did. He'd seen her return pale from the bathroom and heard her retching. It was inevitable what she'd tell him in a few weeks; it was another chain around him.

He fucking hated buses, every last second of them. From fiddling around with change in his pocket to the smelly passengers crammed together. Paddy charged ahead, making an excitable roar as he hurtled down the gangway. Brendan had looked up hoping to see that an old woman would be smiling at the sweet enthusiasm of his son but instead he was met with grim faces and scowls. If it wasn't carrier bag clutching oldies it was teenagers, earphones jammed into their waxy ears. It was a thirty minute journey into the city centre and Brendan was going to feel every minute of it.

_**Ste**_

The first error of the day was forgetting it was the last Saturday before Christmas and it seemed like the world was out shopping. Ste waited at the bus stop, wishing he owned a thicker coat, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He didn't have many presents to buy and he wasn't working Christmas Eve so he reckoned he could pick up a few bargains then. Something for Amy, something for her little one. Today he needed a Secret Santa for work. He'd pulled Martin's name out of the hat: the grumpiest porter in the hospital. A gift from Poundland would have to do. Chocolate would have cut it, but as soon as he decided on that, he remembered Martin was a diabetic.

Snow had started to settle that morning and as the queue at the bus stop increased, he was about to turn home but ten minutes late, the bus arrived. He blew lukewarm air into his fists as he boarded, showing his week pass to the driver. He turned, heading for the stairs – he always sat upstairs – but there was a noise of a kid in the middle of the bus and when he looked, sat in the chaos of it was Brendan.

He hadn't spotted Ste yet; he had one of his hands on his head. His youngest son, in front, yapped and kneeled up on the seat. His older son, pre-teen and lanky already, sat silent next to his younger brother and played a Nintendo DS. They didn't look like they had argued, but Brendan looked exhausted from just being there. It had been over a year since they had seen each other at the hospital.

So much had happened in that year: a pay rise, nicer curtains in the flat, losing his virginity and six months of dead-end dating, moving into a pokey three bedroom flat with Amy and Leah. But still, a year down the line, the sight of Brendan made Ste's heart beat a little faster. He couldn't deny it – he liked the way Brendan looked at him. He was never going to pursue it – not with a married man with kids – never. But these fleeting encounters gave him little bursts of adrenaline that he couldn't deny himself. He'd been warned, by shrinks at juvvie, about chasing things that were unlikely to end happily – give him the break he needed – but he'd never been good at following advice.

Without a word he plonked himself beside Brendan. He had to angle his leg out into the aisle because Brendan's irritated slump had taken up part of his seat. When he twisted to face Brendan it took a moment for him to look, to let the recognition kick in and Ste smirked as it finally clicked.

"Hello," Ste said. Brendan's body straightened up. He looked like he did at the hospital then, suddenly broad of chest and his eyes warming. He had wild eyes – that's what Ste had noticed when they first met in the club. He looked other worldly at times, beast-like. But when that melted, he was soft, teasing under all those layers of steel. His black leather coat, which had first looked imposing and military became overpowered by its furred collar. Of course, it didn't make him seem fluffy and approachable. There was still a smell of danger on him, of excitement, even on the 47C bus into the city centre.

"Steven," he said, voice croaking worn from all the telling off he'd probably been doing to the boys. "How's it goin'?"

"Yeah, it's all good," Ste said feeling the bus lurch as it started. It was overcrowded and he was pushed even closer to Brendan. Their knees touched briefly. Brendan made no attempt to move away, so Ste shifted. "N'you?"

"I'm on a fuckin' bus, what do you think?" His cursing was under his breath for the kids' sake.

Ste grinned. "Oh yeah, slumming it with the rest of us."

"I didn't mean you," Brendan said, grumbly apologetic, "My car's knackered and I promised I'd take the kids into town to see Santa."

At this, the little one turned in his seat to face his dad with the biggest grin imaginable. Ste shared his smile. "Exciting! I wish my dad had taken me to see Santa when I were a kid."

"He didn't?"

"I don't even know him. And my stepdad…well…" Ste looked down. He didn't want to share the black and blue tales of his childhood on the bus. He didn't want to sully Brendan with it either, didn't want to be seen as the lad with the miserable backstory – there was still that flirty mystery between them. He liked that they were relative strangers, it meant Brendan saw him without the baggage everyone else did.

Brendan tapped his son on the shoulder. "Paddy, turn back around." Surprisingly the boy did as he was asked and watched his brother's game.

"You er…going shopping?"

"You're not great at this small talk stuff, are ya?" Ste unfolded his arms and when he put his hand on the seat, their little fingers touched. He couldn't be sure if Brendan had moved his hand purposely or not. They sat there, little fingers touching, heat spreading. The bus was start-stop with the traffic piled up in the snow. "I've just gotta get a Secret Santa for work and some other bits."

"You still working at the hospital?"

"Yep, still there pushing the trolleys."

An elderly gentleman had appeared in Ste's eye line, he was standing. Ste felt a sense of responsibility to offer his seat, but as he did, breaking that skin contact with Brendan, he wished he didn't have to.

The old man declined and Ste found himself sigh a little. Brendan was forward facing and Ste took the opportunity to look at him. His gaze flicked back and forth and then down the length of his body. Silence filtered between them as he drank him in. It struck him as strange how a man so slender could seem so masculine, so powerful. All too late he realised he was imagining him with his clothes off.

"So are you looking forward to Christmas?" Brendan asked, shifting awkwardly. He _really _wasn't great at conversation.

"Yeah, should be good this year. All I want's an X-Box, so I'm hoping for a bit of money to put towards it."

Brendan nodded and his older son's ears pricked up and he faced Ste. "Yeah! That's what I want too! And a steering wheel to go with it and…"

"Yeah alright, Deccy. You only get presents if you've been good this year," Brendan said and his son got pulled back into concentrating on his handheld game.

"And what about you," Ste said to Brendan, moving in his seat, knee knocking and then sliding away from Brendan's. His mouth was angled low so he didn't need to speak any louder than a whisper. "Have you been good this year?"

"Saintly." His legs spread and they were connected at the knee again.

Right at that moment, Paddy decided to snatch Declan's game, wiping his current score and a pushing and shoving dispute broke out between them.

"Pack it in boys!" Brendan said, raising his voice. His temper didn't seem to stop them and Ste could sense he was losing grip, clueless about how to handle it. Paddy wanted a go on the game but neither of them had worked out they could share and Brendan was all about possession and discipline, not seeing how else it could be resolved.

The bus was still held up, they weren't going anywhere fast.

"Hey, why don't you take it in turns, make it a competition?" Ste suggested, poking his head between where the two boys were sat.

They softened to the idea and it wasn't long before they were sharing and quiet, leaving Brendan awed.

"How the hell did you manage that?" Brendan asked. His face was crinkled in confusion, his twisted expression making Ste laugh. Clearly he didn't do much with them at home.

"I got experience," Ste said, thinking about how Amy let Leah get away with murder until he stepped in to help. She'd almost become a daughter to him and he knew Amy wished she really had been biologically his.

Brendan's eyes narrowed. His voice had simmered to a low, velvet quality. Ste could feel it vibrate through him. "You look too young to…and I thought you were…"

Ste looked down at the floor, the grimy filth of it, and then back to Brendan – eyes drawn to his unmistakable moustache. He'd never thought about facial hair really, being so fair himself, but he just couldn't imagine Brendan without it. It made him look more brooding. He liked it, strange as it was. He wondered what it felt like.

"Not mine," he said, "My flatmate's kid. And yeah…I am."

Brendan avoided eye contact for a moment. He looked at his own kids.

"But then you knew that already."

_**Brendan**_

Ten minutes before the bus was due to stop in the centre, knowing that Steven was headed there too, Brendan had considering inviting him for a coffee. Mentally he planned how to approach it, how to offer it. As a thank you? The more he thought about it, the more it sounded ridiculous. Two kids in a coffee shop? Two kids dragged along for what…? What was he hoping to get out of it? Besides, what kind of poof was he, taking out a lad for a coffee?

In the end he'd settled for sitting as still as he could, still breathing, with Steven's thigh burning next to his. If it had been accidental he didn't want to move and alert him to it. And when the bus stopped they parted ways, as casually as strangers. He suffered in the limbo between elation and misery.

Lucky for him the kids behaved themselves around the shops and he broke Eileen's cardinal sin, taking them to McDonalds. He rowed with Declan who, after opening up his Big Mac had declared himself a vegetarian.

"You ain't a vegetarian," Brendan said, quarter-pounder spraying the table. "No son of mine is going to become a vegetarian. We're meat eaters, that's what we do."

The irony wasn't lost on him and after eating Declan's discarded meal, he had a twinge of nausea in his belly from his infected speech to his son. He resolved to let him eat how he pleased.

They still had greasy ketchuppy fingers when they joined the queue to see Santa. Paddy had an even worse patience than Brendan and huffed and fidgeted all the way up to the front. By the time he'd had a photo (an extra fiver) and a crappy piece of junk as a present (a tenner) he was tired and seconds away from a tantrum.

Brendan had to pull him down the high street until they got back to the bus station. He raged on, Paddy stropping, at full speed, Declan meandering behind dreading the bus journey home, all his earlier excitement evaporated. He had to stop at the cash point before they boarded the bus and when he paused, he spotted Steven in the distance.

He was gathered in a small circle of gangly teenage guys, all in tracksuits with acne and aggressive body language. Steven wasn't stood like that, but he was joining in on a joke, looking every bit the nineteen year old. Free of responsibility and stress. It stuck in his throat like a nettle seeing him from a distance, witnessing a glimpse into his private life, one so removed from his own.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you as ever for the support! Hope you enjoy the next part._

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**Chapter Four**

_**2010 – March – Brendan**_

The overhead lights started to make his eyes itch. They cast repeating images across the hospital's canvas of blank walls. Eileen had gone home to freshen up and bring back a few bits to make an overnight sleep by Declan's bedside a bit more comfortable. The nurses were in with him now, continually testing and probing, trying to get a response out of his groggy state. Brendan was unsure of the ins and outs of the operation, the whole idea of surgery terrified him. The sickly metallic tang of hospitals could get under his skin, reminding him of worse times.

He sat, head bowed, hands clasped together. It was times like this he wished Paddy were here cracking his little-man jokes or practising card tricks, but hopefully he was tucked up at his granny's getting the rest he needed. Brendan would settle for Eileen's head on his shoulder. If he had her to comfort it would chase his own thoughts away. Being alone was the worst feeling of all. It made him dwell.

Declan getting his surgery had been a welcome breakthrough, but it didn't solve their problems. That had almost been Eileen's mantra in the New Year.

"We'll get him fixed and then we can all concentrate on getting back to normal." He knew that her comments were aimed at him too. She wanted his presence at home as well as the money he was making. When he wasn't working late, Danny had dragged him into high stakes poker – games where they teamed up and scammed other players, splitting the winnings. It was risky and kept him away from home, but he could buy her a handbag to apologise for being an absentee husband and for a day or so it was enough. He wasn't sure he knew what 'normal' they were supposed to be getting back to; he'd never felt normal.

He dragged a hand through his hair which was flat; the product he put in some fourteen hours ago had worn to nothing and then clawed at his face trying to stay awake. A pair of soft looking shoes stopped in front of him and his back cracked as he rose up to speak to them, expecting it to be a doctor or a nurse on Declan's ward.

"I'm beginning to think you're stalking me."

A sight welcome for any tired eyes, Steven stood in front of him, looking bright like he'd just had twelve hours sleep. He combed his fringe off his forehead a little but soon his expression dropped like there was a magnet under his chin. Without Brendan saying a word, Ste had placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry. You look awful…" Ste said and then, again, realising his clumsy choice of words, crumpled his face. His hand slipped away and he smacked himself on the head.

Brendan had no choice but to smile at his awkwardness. Just his company, the sight of him alone was enough to raise his spirits. From his hunched over position, Brendan sat upright and found that Ste took the opportunity to sit beside him.

"No wonder the NHS is going down the pan if there are slackers like you in the place." Brendan's tone was dry but when he exchanged a glance with Ste, the humour in his greying eyes made up for his words.

"Technically my shift don't start for another fifteen minutes," Ste said. "What you here for? Your son?"

Brendan nodded, rubbing his eyes with the rough palm of his hand. "It's some inner ear, balance problems. Some rare thing. But it's operable and he's had it done, so…"

Ste rotated towards Brendan, mirroring the way he sat forward. "That's good, then." It was like his lips were glued together, the tightness of his smile. "He'll be alright, you know?" Then it came again, the feather light touch on his shoulder. Only this time it lingered, came with a squeeze. When a doctor walked by, he removed his hand and perhaps the understanding was that it wasn't professional for a hospital porter to be so involved. Brendan didn't know the ins and outs, just knew these places came with a lot of red tape and bullshit.

"I need some air…you wanna?" Brendan signalled with his head, feeling confined in the tin can corridor.

_**Ste**_

"You smoke?" Ste asked as they stood in the cold, just away from the automatic doors, hands pressed around plastic cups of stomach-rotting coffee.

Brendan shook his head. "My dad put me off. For life. Can't stand the smell."

Ste watched him stare out across the car park. His voice sounded far off, lost in the past. Ste had hoped the air would make him feel better but instead he was closed off, solemn and shut down. It just made Ste more eager to get him to relax and open up. He enjoyed the way they had sparked together.

Smoking used to be what Ste did when he felt unsure of himself, uncomfortable. It broke tensions and fills gaps in between conversation. It didn't really calm him down; he had the temperament of a kid on sugar. "I used to. When I was a kid. Like hanging around smoking, drinking cider n' that." Ste left out the joy riding incidents. The baggage. Brendan had enough to think about, let alone imagining what nightmares his son could be involved in in a few years' time. He could have sworn he encountered Brendan years back, back when his school days involved bunking and drinking. It was the moustache that made him wonder; it had a certain familiarity.

Brendan's gaze lifted, scoffing with a smile. His face changed when he smiled, creasing his eyes in a way that pleased Ste. "When you were a kid? Jesus you're barely out of school."

"I'm twenty, alright?" Ste said, sharing the laugh. He'd grown up fast, he felt old in his bones. He winced at the amount of sugar he'd added to his machine tea; he'd tried to make it palatable so he had the excuse of sharing a moment with Brendan.

"Ah, " Brendan said, both of them easing up, "So that makes you…what, middle aged, then?"

Ste ended up chucking his tea away, explaining to Brendan it was – in his words – rank. But he stood next to Brendan as he finished his drink, hugging his elbows. He didn't want to press Brendan about his son's hospital visit he was just curious and part of him wondered if this would mean seeing Brendan around the corridors more often.

"How long's he in for, your son?"

"Just tonight, thank god. Can't stand the place."

Ste hung his head, fidgeting in his shoes. He needed new ones, a luxury which he couldn't afford. He had to try and make light of the comment because his cheeks had flashed red. What had he hoped? That Brendan was going to say he loved spending time at the hospital, loved bringing his son to and fro? Of course he wasn't. It's not like Ste thought he could change that, he just didn't like the idea of being associated with a place Brendan hated.

"It's funny, in't? That we keep bumping into each other?"

Brendan's eyes looked a silvery blue in the dim light of the car park. He was haloed by the white lights of the hospital and his darkened frame, the slim leather jacket. It wasn't that he just looked tired, it was like his energy had taken a battering. Maybe he had an old soul too.

He smiled kindly. "We live in the same area, I guess. It's not too much of a stretch to think our paths might cross."

"Alright!" Ste said, nudging him with his elbow. "You spoilt it now. I thought it was fate."

His smile beamed wide at Brendan to show he was joking. He saw little wisps of white air come from Brendan's nose when he shook off a laugh. Hearing him laugh made him seem lighter – it came from his chest and spread like the roots of a happier mood. Then Brendan's expression stoned into a serious one and he avoided eye contact. "You know what they say, Steven. The universe has a funny way of telling us things."

Ste sucked his mouth off to the left, thinking. He'd never met anyone who remotely had any belief in anything – he even thought people who claimed to have seen ghosts a bit suspect. He had noticed the cross pendant around Brendan's neck, sometimes outside his clothes, other times nestled amongst chest hair. "Do you believe in all that stuff, then?"

His cheeks puffed out, balancing back and forth on his soles, like he gave serious thought to the question. "I believe things are sent to try us."

Ste thought he had grasped the general gist of what he meant. He had never been all that good at conversations with deeper meanings, it's probably why school hadn't gone so well. "Like your son's medical problems."

"Well that too, but…temptations."

Pressing his weight onto his heels, Brendan cast his glance in Ste's direction. Until then Ste had just assumed he meant the usual temptations like drink and drugs and then…sex. It can't have lasted more than a second but Ste felt the weight of it like a two handed shove. It stung like a hot pulse. He'd been warned about this inside, by the screws, about messing things up. Not just for him but for other people. He should be concentrating on a simple life, not falling into the trap of ruining someone else's life. He'd almost done that when he put Amy's life in danger; he was trying to be a good person.

He offered a weak shrug, checking a non-existent watch. "Look, I better be heading to work. You know, I'll get in trouble if I'm late." He bowed his head. "I hope your son's alright and thanks – for the tea."

Brendan cleared his throat, trying to split whatever awkwardness had formed like a hard skin between them. "Don't mention it," he said and nodded in goodbye.

Ste made himself scarce and saw that only a few seconds later Brendan's wife turned up beside him. She appeared to be lecturing him for leaving their son's side and when Brendan reached out to touch her arm, to comfort her, she brushed him off and headed into the hospital with her neck stiff, holding back tears

_**2010 – November – Brendan**_

Until last night it had been roughly seven months since he'd ended up in bed with another man. His second longest abstinence that he could remember. He considered it a sign of weakness when he couldn't resist and he loathed to think of himself as a weak man but it he was doomed to give in. Sometimes it'd be four times a week just to get by.

He laid still, staring at the back of the guy's neck trying to remember what his name was - if he'd even asked. He could barely remember how he'd ended up in this man's flat; he never did that. It looked desperate and weak and offered a false commitment. By the taste in his mouth it was clear: he'd drunk a deadly amount of booze, fucked him and passed out. If it had felt good he couldn't remember. He didn't feel any better for it.

Of course, now that consciousness had returned and the stranger's flat (no, there were Hitchcock posters on the wall, so – worse – he'd fucked a film student) swam into view, he remembered _why_ he'd ended up there, tonguing bruising kisses on the nape of this blond guy. Yesterday had been his birthday, his thirtieth and the gifts God had bestowed were two-fold: 1) Eileen told him she was pregnant 2) A sickening jealousy.

Eileen had cooked a special birthday dinner for him. She cooked almost as badly as he did. It was a disaster in waiting: her tearful and stressed about the food, Brendan agitated by the expected mirth he was expected to show and the sex he'd have to take part in with her that night. In the end the dinner had ended with Eileen revealing she was pregnant and the remaining food on the plates festered in their silence. She had sat downcast and picking at her plate as she mumbled the news. Bottling and folding away every last shred of resentment he had, Brendan kissed her hand and excused himself from the bathroom, staring long and hard into his reflection. Another symbol of him being a real man was another fist ripping out his sanity.

When he returned to dinner he explained to Eileen that Danny needed him and the club. She seemed too exhausted to protest and he left her, knowing where he was headed.

_INK _was a club, tucked far away from his and the usual haunts of the city. He hated the place and its clichéd music and tacky décor, but it came with the benefit of being full of young gay men looking for the same one night stand he was. He bought himself a drink and surveyed the immediate bar area. He didn't plan on being picky about it, but it was his birthday and fuck it if he wasn't going to pick a guy his type that would suck him off in the alleyway between the housing estates.

A potential caught his attention. Tight navy jeans cupped his arse, his cheap shirt wriggling away from his skinny body as he attempted to dance. From behind, his awkward moves and the garishly coloured shirt were an endearing sight. Brendan wasn't interested in his moves, but he was willing to take a chance on him just for a feel of his arse. He drained his drink, trying to keep his gaze on the guy through the mass of swaying bodies. Strobe lights and the pulsing house music made his job harder and he began to feel his age.

Just as he hunted forward, pushing out the obstacles to his prey, he saw the lad clearer. He wasn't alone. And he wasn't a stranger. A few feet away Brendan watched in trampled hunger: Steven Hay pulled another man into a kiss, so intense that Brendan felt it like hands around his throat. Standing still in the crowd, lashed with jealousy, he watched on, torn between violent possessiveness and consuming arousal. Steven showed no signs of shyness or regret. He was physical and passionate and Brendan's blood pumped hot as he devoured the hateful, lusty image.

There was another gay club nearby so he headed there, picking up the first guy drunk enough not to care that when Brendan fucked them he was thinking of someone else.

_**2010 – November – Eileen**_

Eileen shoved the pregnancy test in the bin, hearing the front door close. She ran her hands under the tap, pressing her puffy eyes and headed downstairs. She paused on the landing, hearing Brendan shrug off his jacket. From her position she could see him compose himself just like she was doing – taking a breather before they would resume.

"Sorry sweetheart," he said as soon as her foot creaked on the stairs. He looked every one of his thirty years, if not older. The shirt she'd ironed for him was creased around the chest. Before she allowed herself to imagine another woman's hands rumpling it, he spoke again. "It was a really heavy night at the club and I just slept there. Didn't want to come in late and wake you."

He didn't kiss her, blaming it on a boozy night. He had no need to say it, she could smell it cloying on his clothes. He didn't smell of perfume and that was a strange relief. He placed his hands around her face instead and before she could guard herself, her face ruptured with tears and a misplaced grief.

"I'm not pregnant," she said through a tearful sigh. She hadn't wanted another baby and she wasn't even sure why it had upset her. She reasoned that it was relief, but perhaps it was seeing the look on Brendan's face when he heard it was a false alarm.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Sorry it took a while to update this one! Hope you're enjoying the build up! Thanks for all the comments :)_

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_**2011 – January – Brendan**_

The double whiskey he'd taken from _Ravens_' stocks had numbed the cold as he walked. The journey had become something of a habit, a habit he pretended had started innocently – unconsciously – but in fact had come with clear intentions. He estimated the length of the distance to be around a few miles and now that his body had grown used to it, it didn't take him much time at all. He wasn't going to park the car in an obvious place and he had no reason to be visiting the hospital. He parked the Mercedes in a commercial industrial estate – the familiar sort – walled in by a mammoth Toys R Us (Paddy had been recently, still young enough for kids' things), a carpet store and a PC World and walked the rest of the way to the hospital.

His feelings for Steven had polluted his system. He didn't welcome them, he didn't want them but they stayed – they had grown. First it had felt like a loose thread - a distraction - and each meeting had been a pull, slowly fraying him until his shape was all wrong. Now he didn't know what he'd become.

Of course he'd met guys in the past that he'd wanted but he'd fucked them and the feeling had vanished and he'd returned to Eileen with his mind cleared. It almost felt like one of those airy fairy detoxes. Steven wasn't like this. With him it had become like one of those nightmares where you could never quite reach the destination, no matter how desperate the situation. He hadn't been given the opportunity to get him out of his system so Steven hovered in the background of his mind, unbearably.

Things at home hadn't changed much and the stagnant nature of his family life, along with the feeling of time pressing on meant he thought more and more about Steven. His role as a father had never been one he excelled in and now his position was practically redundant – Declan was a silent teenager, now healthier than ever, and Padraig was a mammy's boy. Eileen demanded less and less of him, filling their empty marriage with a busy social life. Maybe like him, she'd stopped trying. She was back on the pill and sex happened when they both felt obligated. He knew she suspected him of being with another woman and he'd seen her check shirt collars for lipstick. In the dark she didn't see the stubble graze on his inner thighs.

The student he'd picked up the night of his thirtieth birthday ended up being good enough in bed – and under plenty of alcohol, a passable look-a-like – so Brendan had wasted a few more fucks on him over the Christmas period. It was a cycle of disappointment as soon as he'd sobered up and come, realising he hadn't been sleeping with Steven after all. That frustration pushed him into new tactics, one that would at least satisfy a little of his hunger. He'd started following Steven home.

It had happened on an impulse to begin with on a drive home from work. It had been around three in the morning, the roads ghostly quiet and he took a left instead of a right at the roundabout, passing a roadside café and a disused petrol garage before parking up at the industrial estate and walking to the hospital. He had no idea when Steven finished his shift but maybe there was something right about this fate business, because twenty minutes into hanging around, Brendan saw him leave and begin his walk home. He kept his distance, enough paces away so that Steven wouldn't get suspicious. The adrenaline of seeing him, memorising each quirk of the way he walked and stood, the way his hair sat, the way his jeans fell around his hips.

His obsession had lead him to work out Steven's shift pattern, so here he stood again, watching – committing it to memory – following his walk home and resisting. On the chance that they might meet again – and he'd decided they would, through chance or his own orchestration – he didn't want to scare him off. He kept imagining his own cold hands against the searing heat of Steven's smooth body in the dark. He imagined them biting back their instinctive urges to scream and burying inside the lust of their secret. For that reason alone – because indulging in these fantasises were keeping him alive – he wasn't going to jump out on him in the dark, announce himself as a stalker. He was just going to savour every second and wait for the moment to be his.

_**2011 – May – Eileen**_

Waiting outside the school gates resembled something far more political and cliquey than Eileen imagined. Other women didn't seem to take to her – sometimes it was like they actively avoided her – and she felt as if they were standing around in their packs bitching about her. In Ireland she hadn't had this problem, if anything _she_ had her own catty group, picking on newcomers and saying: "Would you look at the state of her?" But here she'd become the outsider, alone at the gates waiting on Paddy.

Sometimes on the drive to the school she'd invent scenarios of how the wait might turn out. She might be accepted into a group, invited to join the PTA and the wine and wisdom, or she might chance upon a dashing single father who she could comfort when conversation turned to how difficult it was bringing up children alone. That's how it had started to feel at home too. Brendan had taken on more and more work at _Ravens_, cowering under Danny Houston's command and aware that in four or so years Declan would be needing money for university. She didn't ask why sometimes the money he brought home came in thick brown envelopes – it was better not knowing. She trusted him enough to know he would risk bringing series trouble to their door. She'd thought about working herself, a legitimate job, but Brendan had talked her out of it. It felt at times like a single parent family.

A new woman stood at the gates that afternoon. Eileen couldn't help but notice how young she was – surely her child wasn't at the school? But then, she herself hadn't been that old when she'd fallen pregnant with Niamh and then Declan. The girl looked fairly timid and as she didn't seem to be part of a group, Eileen idly wondered if they could forge their own. As she thought this, rain began falling and Eileen opened up her umbrella. It was the perfect excuse and she ushered the girl underneath to share.

"Thank you!" she said, a little laugh after it. She had a local accent and being as tiny as she was, fitted snuggly under the brolly.

"I'm Eileen."

"Amy," she said, offering a small wave.

"S'nice to meet you. You new here?"

Amy shook her head, sending with it strands of her mousy hair. "My dad normally drops my daughter off. Leah – that's her name. She started in Reception in September."

Eileen scrunched her face in an automatic 'aww' response. "My son Paddy's in the infants. Right little brainbox he is!" She couldn't resist getting in a little boast, but Paddy was smart and growing into his dad's looks too. She hoped he wouldn't take after him on the trouble stakes.

"I'm not really used to doing the pick-up and drop off thing. I was studying drama but I'm working part time in a high school now," Amy explained after there had been a brief lapse in conversation and they became aware of the cliques around them.

Drama – Eileen thought, what a waste of time that was. At best she'd end up in some godforsaken soap opera.

"Well, I'll tell you what, if you stick with me you can borrow my brolly anytime!" Eileen said, hoping to have found a new friend in Amy.

_**2011 – July – Ste**_

With Amy and Leah in the flat and the sticky heat of a humid day, Ste didn't feel in the mood to get into a night of sex, even if Adam was pushing for it. They'd only been together a few months and the 'at it like rabbits' phase hadn't passed, but it was the summer holidays and the walls were thin. He pushed Adam away, feeling wet marks on his neck where Adam had kissed him.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror as they playfully shoved each other over the bed, wrangling for the last slice of pizza, and realised that he looked as good as he felt. He'd been given more responsibility at the hospital and dating Adam had perked up his confidence, so with a slightly bigger wage, he got himself a sharp new haircut and some new clothes. He was starting to think bigger, about what he wanted to do with his life. It seemed too early to decide if Adam was part of that but he enjoyed the way Adam made him feel safe. Safe was nice.

Being with Adam took his mind off his childish workday fantasises that he might bump into the elusive Brendan Brady again. It had been over a year since Ste had last seen him, since they'd stood outside the hospital and edged around and acknowledged the attraction between the two of them. Ste had backed off and as far as he was concerned it was a no-go area; Brendan had clearly retreated too – back to his family and the image that came with it. However schoolgirl it felt, Ste couldn't help the flutter in his gut when a dark figure passed through the corridors at work or he heard the echo of an Irish drawl. Luck – or the universe or whatever – hadn't been on his team lately, there'd been no sign of Brendan. Perhaps that was for the best, getting infatuated over a married man – a closet case at that – couldn't end well.

Except, he never let himself believe he wouldn't see Brendan again – they lived in the same city, they had to cross paths again at some point.

::

:

_**2012 – May – Ste**_

He had Adam's arms around him in the queue of _Ravens_ nightclub; it was unusually chilly for a night in May. They'd ditched Adam's friends behind in _INK_ and taken a chance on this club. They never went to _Ravens_ – it had always had a bit of a reputation for being a little seedy - but it had barely touched midnight and Ste was happily pissed enough to want to keep dancing. _Ravens _had seemingly had a refit, more people were talking about it so at Ste's suggestion they'd ended up standing outside. The prettiest girls got in first, predictably.

Ste wasn't really sure when he became the kind of guy who wore torso-skimming polo shirts and liked clubbing – he guessed it had been Adam's influence. They were practically living together now; Adam had a toothbrush in the bathroom. Again, that sort of development had crept up on him too.

When they finally got into the club, Ste could see why everyone was so impressed by the place. Everything was dark and sleek, glowing from strobe and coloured lights. The base of the music pulsed through him, making his skin tingle with electricity. Adam pushed up against him asking if he wanted another drink. He did, but the pull and crush of their bodies together made him horny, so in the full throng of the crowd, Ste hooked him in close, tonguing his mouth wide open. The world could have been watching but he wouldn't have noticed.

_**Brendan**_

At first he reasoned it had to be the alcohol or the sexual frustration rattling his system; he was hallucinating Steven Hay in his club. It didn't look much like him at first – a trendy haircut and clothes that clung to his delicate waist. Brendan's mouth watered. He peered in closer to the CCTV and zoomed. He danced like a lunatic, no rhythm and no co-ordination. He was clearly drunk. Brendan studied him with a groan sticking in his throat. Fuck it he wanted to lick him down and feel what it was like to be inside him.

As cruel as the universe could be, through the strobe lights Brendan saw him with a guy who leeched off of him, groping and grinding on the dance floor. He made the cameras follow hotly on their movements as they took their heat to the bathrooms, holing themselves away into a cubicle. Brendan's tongue slackened, unzipping his trousers watching as Steven bent over and braced himself without question in one of the stalls. They were too drunk and caught up in the moment to care how grimy the toilets were and that an illegal CCTV camera blinked above their heads. They used it normally to catch the coke heads and work out which mugs they could sell too.

The images came with no sound but Brendan invented a whole soundtrack of pleasure as he palmed his dick roughly, his wrist hitting the desk. He could feel his shirt sticking to his spine even before he witnessed Ste's shameless toying of his cock. Brendan was thankfully that the dark haired guy inserting eager fingers into Steven looked almost faceless. Brendan could put himself in his place. Steven's mouth had fallen open, his eyes squeezed tight before he laughed, thrusting out his backside for the taking.

"God boy, you're so…" Brendan said, growling to himself and tightened his grip around his dick. He imagined the fierce clench of Steven's muscles but knew whatever he could conjure wouldn't be half as good as the real thing. The bliss of seeing Steven's body rippling gave Brendan's jerking off a faster speed, slamming his free hand on the zoom button. He moaned, watching Ste take pound after pound, buckling under the tension. The faceless bastard was lazy, Brendan knew in his place he'd have been a little rougher – slapped his arse or pulled at his hair – and he wouldn't have let his cock go untouched.

His dick swelled, his fist growing slippery with pre-cum. He felt like he owed this boy a good fuck, it had been a long time coming. His head filled up with sounds of flesh and moans and fluid and sighs. He howled curses around the office against the heady throb of music, watching Steven touch himself with increasingly desperate strokes and came, gawping and ready for Ste to do the same.

_**Ste**_

Ste wiped himself off using a wad of loo roll and turned in Adam's embrace, damp with sweat and his head swimming. He felt so light it was like he had no gravity. He pressed his neck against Adam's mouth and was met with a soft kiss, hoping for a bit more bite. He squeezed Adam's behind and told him to go get the beers in. Left alone in the cubicle, Ste hovered for a moment, gathering himself together – he could barely believe Adam had done something so impulsive and public. It had been Ste's idea of course and Adam had been drunker than he'd ever seen him but it was rare for them to be so feral.

Ste left the stall, heading to the sink to wash his hands. He rinsed, singing along to the song playing next door when someone moved behind him and he looked up into the mirror, expecting it to be Adam.

Brendan stood there, arms crossed in a suit. Ste couldn't tell if it was his imagination or the drink but Brendan had a lazy, leery stare tonight. His pulse deafened.

"You ever tried karaoke before, Steven?" Brendan asked, referencing the out of tune singing.

Ste wiped his hands on a paper towel and turned, resting up against the sink edge. "I do a great Cheryl Cole," he said.

In this environment – hot and heady - the atmosphere shifted and Brendan stood closer.

"I bet," he said.

Ste knew, because he could see his own reflection in the other mirrors that his body was angled – leant on his elbows – so that his pelvis jutted forward and his polo shirt was drawn tight across his chest. He saw Brendan privately observe how his nipples studded through and a soft sprinkle of hairs at his belly were visible where the shirt didn't quite reach.

"You having fun tonight?" Brendan asked, stood directly in front of the cubicle where Ste had been fucked. Ste wondered if the blush on his face gave it away.

"Yeah," he said, drunk-hazily, "What are you doing here anyway?" He felt tempted to quip about Brendan's age again but a faint flash of something dark shadowed in his eyes. He didn't feel like the tortured family man in that moment, it was predatory.

"It's my club," he said and suddenly the power shift made sense.

"_Your_ club? It's nice," Ste said. His vision swirled and he blinked several times in a second to try and gain focus. He thought Brendan stepped closer.

"Yeah, it's nice," Brendan said. Ste felt his eyes on him and he found himself holding back a snigger because of it.

"I ain't seen you in ages," Ste said, trying and failing to straighten up against the sink. Brendan's suit jacket was close enough to touch now and he tugged on the lapel as he spoke. He couldn't remember if he'd zipped up his fly since leaving the cubicle or how long he'd had the erection that he currently felt.

A look crossed Brendan's face which Ste doubted he'd be able to read even if he was sober. Brendan's head tilted to the side and Ste didn't know if the whole floor went with it, but he wobbled anyway. He swallowed just as Brendan's hands came near his neck. He hadn't a clue what was happening, but felt his head get overwhelmed with a masculine waft of aftershave and the feeling of being trapped in by his muscular, jacketed arms.

Brendan's lips pursed in concentration and his fingers extended as he unravelled and straightened Ste's collar. The heat from his studious movements made Ste shiver, running goosebumps all the way from his neck to his arms. Once fixed, Brendan didn't stop at his collar but patted him down, his fingertips stroking a sensitive trail down his chest, fingering his firm nipples.

He made it look casual, lingered and then withdrew, stuffing his hands away. Ste's heart pounded like a fist inside his chest. Then the bathroom door clattered open, shattering the moment with light and noise and Ste looked up to see Adam tearing in, rushing to vomit in the cubicle.

Ste watched on as Brendan stepped back frostily, ripe with irritation and walked out the room. Going straight into a caring and protective mode, shuddering at the sound of Adam being sick, Ste sobered up, seeing the door swing closed and losing Brendan to a sea of bodies.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Thank you so much for all your comments (and your patience! I know it's probably frustrating!). Some big revelations in this chapter…enjoy! _

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_**2013 – July – Brendan**_

"You're late," she said, knees falling apart on the seat as she glugged down another mouthful of water, puffing hair out of her face and squeezing a hand-held fan in her grip.

Brendan could feel the damp patches of his t-shirt sticking to him, having run from the car park. "I got held up in a meeting with Danny," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead, hand on her stomach.

She was hot and irritable, more than usual and jerked away. "He does know you're going to be a father again, doesn't he? I don't want you in the club all the hours that god gives when this one's popped out." Eileen stroked up and down her stomach and slumped back into the seat. "Where is the bloody doctor? My bladder's fit to burst here!"

Brendan dragged a hand across his face, eyes catching a glance of the stained ceiling and the ugly child-friendly mural on the walls, wondering how he had ended up here again, waiting with a wife he wasn't in love with for a scan. He already adored the child that grew inside her, but it had become another reminder of everything wrong in his life.

A year had passed since he stood in his club anticipating that he was in the final stages of being able to get his hands on Steven Hay. The boy had been drunk and horny, his flies already undone and if his boyfriend hadn't come running into the room throwing his guts up, Brendan knew how the night would have ended. Instead, little fucking nursemaid Steven had run to his boyfriend's aid and that was the last Brendan had seen of him. He'd retreated to his office and watched as the couple headed home together. Brendan became a rotting mess of bitterness and jealousy. He continued his stalking of Ste, even on nights when it became fruitless and he was just a sad pathetic man roaming the streets. And as time dragged on, Steven didn't turn up at the club again like Brendan had imagined he might and like sand rushing through his fingertips he realised that Steven had moved house and had stopped being the easily tracked prey he once was. Even if it wasn't deliberate it felt as much.

He'd started drinking more, falling into pitch black moods of isolation, agreeing to riskier deals at the club and becoming an even worse father and husband than he had been before. He could claim his family meant everything to him – he had traditional values – but he resented their presence. When Eileen delivered the news about being pregnant it felt like another curse on his miserable life, but an innocent life became something worth picking himself up for. He swore off the endless quantities of booze and the pathetic one night stands, burying his bad behaviour in regrets and swearing to God he'd be better. Invariably he wasn't, but the thought was there.

"So are you interested in knowing the sex of the baby today?" the doctor said as she pressed the scanner into Eileen's belly, rolling it around in the blue gel.

Brendan felt Eileen's hand tighten around his. As soon as they went home they'd return to almost separate lives but at the hospital, and anyone learning of the baby, they kept up this routine of being a close knit family. "No," she said, "We want it to be a surprise." Declan had noticed their distance but Paddy seemed to be none the wiser.

They were given two print outs at the end of the session. One each. Grey and black shadows and blobs in an ocean of speckled darkness. In all the other scan images of the kids Brendan had pretended to see the foetus and marvelled at the tiny form, but like a Magic Eye photo even squinting didn't help. He saw nothing. But this one, this one he could see. A round blob of a head and a body and least. He looked at 'it' in all its innocence; it had no idea what it was being born into.

After the scan, Eileen hobbled to the toilets, desperate to relieve her bladder and Brendan paced the corridor. They'd been back and forth to the hospital for various reasons over the last few weeks and Brendan himself had kept up his paranoid testing at the sexual health clinic but not once had he bumped into the disappearing Steven. Not that he thought it would lead to anything, Steven had made his feelings clear having never returned to _Ravens._ He didn't want to kid himself any longer. He was alone in these pathetic feeling.

It had been so long in seeing him that when a thick nursing textbook had fallen at Brendan's feet during his constant pacing, he didn't even see it was Ste that he'd bumped into.

_**Ste**_

Until they had made eye contact and Brendan had delivered the textbook straight back into his hands, Ste realised Brendan hadn't seen who he'd collided with. The surprise made his neck recoil back and an immediate mask shuttered down over his face. In Ste's chest his heart thumped, part adrenaline, part that fluttering guilt when he thought back to what almost happened when he was drunk in the toilets of _Ravens_. The embarrassment and arousal he felt going home after, making sure Adam wasn't too ill as well, had ensured he never returned to the club. It's not that he didn't want Brendan in that moment – of course he had – but he didn't want to get involved in something which was such a screw-up. He couldn't drag Adam and Brendan's family into all that just because seeing Brendan felt like being bolted with electricity. He had a good thing with Adam; he couldn't afford to mess that up – especially not now Adam funded his nursing training.

"Nursing, huh?" Brendan said once the acknowledgement had passed. His tone sounded sneery almost, in a way it never had before and Ste's smile had fallen faster than the book. Usually he had felt heat from both of them when their lives collided but Brendan stood coldly, looking down on him with derision.

Ste pulled out his lips sulkily, hugging the book to his chest. "I'm trainin'," he said. Already he missed the types of buzzing connections they'd forged in their previous chance meetings. He at least thought they could be at the stage one day where they could greet each other like mates. It's what they could have been, a bit of flirtatious banter on the side to make each other's smiles last a bit longer.

Brendan nodded, his mouth upturning. "A male nurse? Figures I guess. I'm sure a little baby blue pinny would suit you." His tone didn't have the undertone Ste was used to. He expected lip, he just didn't expect that Brendan's remarks would sting like that.

"I like helping people," Ste said, shouldering past. It was probably a good thing they weren't going to hang around and tiptoe between the attraction they felt. Ste felt like he was being punished for what hadn't even happened between them. Perhaps that was how Brendan worked, lashing out when things didn't go his way. He hadn't predicted there would be homophobia in his words – sure he was an obvious closet case, but he'd always been open and transparent when seeing Ste. He'd made no bones about wanting to have sex – neither of them had.

"Your boyfriend paying for this, is he?" Brendan called out as Ste began walking away.

"None of your business," he said, pausing to turn on his heel, spiked by the barbed comments. He felt too riled to acknowledge any jealousy in Brendan's comments. It was too close to home. Brendan hadn't seen him angry but he was about to; Ste's face had tensed with frustration. "In fact, you know what, none of what I do is any-ya your business, so stop sticking your nose in, alright? It's like you're my stalker or sommit!"

"Stalker? Right, you wish. Grow up Steven."

Ste could hear the hurt bleed through his words and while a part of him regretted it, he couldn't stop the defensive tone he'd found himself in. "That's what I'm doing," he said, walking away, "You should try it sometime."

When he turned the corner he couldn't avoid the way his skin tingled with adrenaline and the prickling disappointment that he might have just fucked up any future encounters with Brendan. Pissed off that Brendan had been rude and that in retaliation he'd been quick to flare up. Once, he'd been able to live off the thrill of seeing him again for days on end. The thought of that ending left him feeling crushed, however immature that made him seem. When they had met, Brendan had made him feel different – special somehow – severing that connection, however bad for him, didn't offer a pleasant after taste. It wasn't a resolution; he thought of Brendan even more than he had done.

_**August – Brendan**_

Eileen had another mum round for a girlie evening in, someone she'd met at the school gates and befriended. Brendan remembered nothing about this other woman only how surprised he'd been that Eileen had made friends with someone – she didn't seem to take to other women well and vice versa. Dreading being suffocated by the chat and the laughter Brendan headed out to the gym, desperate to burn off some of the restless energy he suffered with on a daily basis.

He didn't know what had possessed him to self-sabotage the lingering rapport he had with Steven. Perhaps he was saving them both, or perhaps jealousy had manifested in vicious bitterness that attacked with no purpose. He had no way of tracking him down and making things right; the only way of finding him would be proving him right, proving himself to be a sad stalker.

On the running machine his feet pounded the track, trying to wear out his urges for the sake of his sanity. He'd managed to piss on and extinguish the fire Steven had given back to him. As the exercise regime timer died down to single figures he looked for a distraction at the gym, someone who would make him forget how much he hated himself just for an hour at least and hope that afterwards he'd not feel worse.

_**October – Brendan**_

The figures in the books and the cash in the till didn't add up. Danny's lingering presence of late must have had something to do with it, Brendan had decided. Even though he had the majority share in the club and it was his prerogative to loiter, it unnerved Brendan whenever he did.

He made the risky decision to confront Danny about it on one of his visits.

"It's clever maths," Danny said, typing out a text on his phone. "The accountant sorts it - don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

"Is it dodgy Danny? I need to know."

"And I told you I've got it sorted," Danny said, his cool stare like the reflection of a blade. "You need all the extra cash you can get with another sprog on the way, don't you?"

Brendan's head hung, hands across his face. He couldn't deny that the extra money would come in use, but the thought of anything too high risk made him age ten years. He wasn't up for the threat of being busted by the cops anymore. Danny could easily shrink to the shadows and get away with it, but with Brendan's name on the deeds he couldn't.

Danny laughed, looking at his phone, uninterested in Brendan's worries. He flashed Brendan his phone. "Would you look at that? Her name's Janie – nineteen – double D." Brendan attempted to conjure up some macho enthusiasm for the naked photo Danny showed him of his latest extra-marital hook-up. They ended up sharing beers and scrolling through his grimy photo collection. The effort it took to appear interested exhausted Brendan's mind, making him block out the pressing stress of whatever deals Danny had lined up.

_**December – Ste**_

The conversation over the Christmas dinner with Amy and her new bloke had turned to bars and clubs in town and Ste's stomach had vaulted, cheeks burning up at the mere mention of _Ravens_. It haunted him to this day, months and months down the line – even when his last interaction with Brendan hadn't been a good one. It felt as if they knew, as if they'd acquired powers to see into his mind.

He reacted like he was predisposed to do – like the psychs in juvie had predicted – things were going good and he was screwing them up, even if only mentally. He couldn't face the shame of going back to _Ravens_ and Adam said he didn't like the place much – too pretentious – so they hadn't, even though walking past it, even in the day, had made Ste a little breathless. He wondered how likely it was that they'd bump into each other again and now that things had frosted over between them would Brendan go out of his way to avoid him? Thoughts like that grow like an obsessive mould in his brain and he'd drift out mid conversation when something made him think of Brendan – or worse – he'd think about him during sex and gulp and gasp his way through it trying not to call out the wrong name. It seemed ridiculous but moustache memorabilia followed him everywhere – he even had to lie to Adam and say he hated them so he wouldn't grow one in November. It made him feel unnecessarily guilty. He hated that as things were moving forward in his life, part of him stayed cemented in the past, over-thinking their brief meetings and how things might have resolved themselves differently.

He was going to have to do something about it. He'd decided. He needed to go back to the club; he needed to see Brendan again. His head needed sorting out.

"Is everything, okay?" Amy asked, cornering him by the kitchen sink while Adam and Dean – Amy's boyfriend – helped Leah build a new playhouse for Barbie.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" he said, laughing it off as he stacked the plates in the rack.

"You just seem off that's all," she said, looking at him from the side. "You and Adam okay? Work and the new flat…?"

He shook his head at her, turning back to see Adam and Leah playing. She wasn't Ste's but having helped raised her, he liked seeing her get on with Adam. "Everything is great. Things are great Ames." He kissed her on the cheek – he meant it.

Adam chose that moment to come up behind him, snaking his hands around his waist. "There's one last present for you under the tree."

"What, another one?" Ste said. "You already spent way too much money."

"Just…" Adam dragged him into the living room and fished out a small parcel from under the tree. He hadn't wrapped it, it was too neat for that. Ste had half hoped it was the Xbox game he wanted and hadn't received yet, but it was the wrong shape for that. All eyes were on him and he snorted with laughter at the attention.

After the paper ripped the seconds seemed to slow and he was staring at a solid black box. The laughter seemed superglued to his expression, but the humour had been chiselled out. The box clicked as he opened in; Amy watched from the doorway; Adam was on one knee.

"So," he said, "Will you?"


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: A longer and even more eventful chapter. Enjoy! (I think you will!)_

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_**2014 – January – Brendan**_

Two thick-set men loaded down with sports bags of cash exited the club, giving Brendan a cold stare as they did. They weren't anything to do with him but the way they navigated the club with authority made Brendan head straight to Danny as soon as they'd left.

"The fuck were they?" he asked. He'd been riled by Danny's increasing involvement in the club, having agreed ten years ago when the deals were made that he'd take the backseat, hands-off approach. In the last few years Danny's contacts had grown more and more shady, moving in circles that Brendan didn't want to be a part of. He could deal with the odd exchange to scummy student dealers, but the big guns – when he'd be the one to take the wrap? Danny would walk away without a scratch and all the more smug for it.

"Business associates," Danny said, smoothing his collar. He sat at _Brendan's_ desk. He might have helped pay for it but it wasn't his.

"I don't want them here."

"Not afraid of a bit of high end business are you? Class A's never bothered you before." Danny smirk looked as pasty as his middle aged spread.

"It's not _what_ you're selling, it's who to, how much and _where_ you're doing it!" Brendan knew by the way his voice sounded like cut glass that his anger was showing. He could feel his eye bursting, the vein on his forehead popping. Danny wasn't a man to cross – one of the few men who could intimidate him – but if the cops got wind of the club being used as the epicentre of a massive drugs scheme he'd be looking at a horrific sentence.

"You on your period today or something, Brendan?" Danny said, stepping up and away from the desk. The DJ had just arrived – shortly after the heavies had left – and a pulse of dance music filtered in. "Or are you just forgetting who set you up with this club in the first place?"

Brendan raked a hand through his hair, trying to cool off the tension between them by lightening his voice. "With all due respect Danny…"

"_With all due respect Danny_…" he mimicked. His small piggy eyes had pupils the size of fine drills. "What I'm hearing is a distinct lack of respect Brendan." He vultured around the office, circling, throwing his arms up. "This place will always be mine Brendan, don't you forget that. And as my club I decide what goes. If I want a turnover of premium quality smack for readies then it's my prerogative." Danny gave a hollow laugh as he turned back to face Brendan. "And I don't know what you're complaining about, I'm giving you a generous skim off the top so you can pay for your wife to get her tits lifted and some extra for a bit on the side. Best of both worlds."

Brendan couldn't allow himself to retaliate, just felt his fists clenching by his sides. He felt himself shrink under his suit, Danny's laughter rattling around his skull. But whatever Danny's words, he couldn't let the club be used like this. Eileen was overdue, about to drop another one of his kids into the world and there was no way he was going to end up in prison for something he didn't do.

"The risk's too high Danny. I ain't playing games. I don't want those low-lives in the club again, ya hear me?"

Danny heard him alright with a smack of knuckles against the side of his face. Brendan, being thrown by the impact, stumbled backwards, crashing into the door and felt another blow to the face by Danny's broad fist. He felt a sear of white pain blind him through the nose and hot dampness at the side of his face. Blood dripped from his nose like metallic soup and the scuffs of Danny's rings had cut in thick stripes across his brow.

"Get out of my sight and keep your worthless opinions to yourself," Danny said, downing the rest of his drink and leaving to rinse his hands in the bathroom. Brendan, steeling himself, straightened up his bloody suit and headed to the car, grateful of the darkness to disguise the state he'd found himself in.

When he got home, Eileen had an Indian takeaway spread out in front of her hoping the heat would induce the labour, a Ryan Gosling movie on (the closest she'd come to sex, even though Brendan couldn't see the appeal himself – his eyes were too close together).

"What you doing home so soon?" she called out, mouth loaded with naan. She had expected him to be on a late one at the club until two.

Brendan didn't have to answer because when she saw him, blowing red bubbles through his nostrils and into a tissue, her face said it all. She eased up from the sofa as fast as she could, carrying an overdue bump the size of Alaska.

"What the hell happened?" she cried.

Brendan winced as she tried to go near him, taking the tissue from him and trying to blot his face. "Got into a fight with Danny."

She checked his knuckles for signs of a fair game, but found them unmarked. "And you just stood there and took it?"

"Back off will ya, I was trying to sort something and he didn't take kindly to it." Brendan pushed past her and began spitting blood into the sink. His nose still stung, bruised, but not broken. He'd look black and blue in the morning like he used to as a teen.

Eileen softened, coming up behind him and rubbing his shoulder blades. He felt the warmth of her and the baby press behind him. "Oh sweetheart I'm sorry," she said. "Your face looks bad. You need to get yourself to the hospital."

Brendan was struck by the image of Steven in his nurse outfit, mardy and unobtainable. "No. I'm fine, I don't need no hospital. Just a scratch."

Eileen fussed around him, throwing a packet of co-codamol down on the counter beside a glass of water. He took them without question and eased into her affectionate stroking of his back. "Please go to the hospital," she said, pressing her face against his back. "I don't want you looking like a beaten up thug in the photos when this one's born."

Brendan gave a half laugh in the back of his throat. He knew better than to argue with a heavily pregnant woman and downed the water before heading to the car.

::

He had sat in the hospital car park countless times: taking Declan to meetings, taking Eileen for scans and such, complaining about the prices, worrying about his car being keyed. He'd stood in the car park waiting on Steven to leave, hoping to catch a glimpse of him and in the last year scowling that he couldn't orchestrate their meetings when he wanted them, when he needed them. It seemed like a coward's thing to do, to go to A&E after a punch-up – he should be made of tougher stuff than that. He was meant to be a man after all. And besides, he'd had so much worse. He'd got so far as locking up the car and standing over it, the tablets making him feel slightly drowsy as he'd leant over the roof. He was wondering if he could clean himself up and try and convince Eileen they'd sent him away. He calculated he must have been standing against the car for at least twenty minutes. His fingers knotted together in the cold.

"Hiya?" Of course, he heard the voice calling out across the car park before he saw him. "You alright?" It was clear by Steven's tone that even in the dark, even across the distance of cars he could recognise his shadowy figure, framed by his vast leather coat.

"Fine," Brendan replied; even he didn't sound convinced. His voice dragged slightly in the haze of the tablets. He heard footsteps approach and tried wiping away the blood that seemed to be drying under his nose.

"It's me, Ste," he said, stating the obvious as he made his way closer. Brendan was in the middle of a twelve row of cars. It was only now he saw that even though he'd parted away from the hospital entrance, there was a narrow footpath trailing some five cars away. Steven must have been headed home that way, not the route he used to take to his previous address.

Steven saw Brendan now, both of them illuminated in shades of orange from the overhead lamps. "Shit, what happened to you?!"

"Accident at work," Brendan said with a grim smile. "My boss's fist."

Ste touched his face with delicate hands and angled him into the amber light. Brendan liked the way he didn't push for more details. He was never prying and nosey, never judged. "Let's have a look," he said, tilting up onto his toes to bridge the slight height difference. "Nasty," he said, running his thumb over one of the lesser cuts.

"That's your professional opinion?" Brendan said, smarting at the brief sting. For a guy whose job now involved constant work with his hands, they were smooth and soft, warm too. Ste backed off and the heat evaporated between them. "They're just superficial," Brendan said, sniffing in the gap of their conversation.

"So that's why you came here, to a _hospital_, was it?" Ste said, calling him out on his rebuff. He was loose in dropping his h's and t's, his place of work was a lazy lot of vowels. He fidgeted, slinging his backpack off his shoulders and onto the ground. "Look, I've got a first aid kit in here, if you're too macho to go inside then let me fix you up. Yeah?" A first aid kit? He really was growing up.

Somehow they ended up sitting in Brendan's car, the engine running for a little bit of warmth and the lights on so that Steven could fiddle about with cotton wool and antiseptic. Brendan tried to pay as little attention to his fussing as he could manage, staring straight ahead. He wanted to start giving Ste a history lesson on days of old where somehow people managed without anti-bacterial hand wash.

"It might sting a bit, but you'll just have to live with it," Ste said, holding a wad of damp cotton wool near him. Brendan wondered if Steven spoke as directly to the patients, whether the old dears would appreciate the bluntness of him. He couldn't stop the thoughts that filtered next, whether there'd be guys in their hospital beds (or girls even) hoping the attractive male nurse with the laddish bedside manner worked on shift that day. Ste'd already given Brendan the clinical equivalent of a baby wipe so that he could rid his face of dried blood. He leant over the small space between them and dabbed above Brendan's eye. The pain was like a flick of a switch and it sparked through him, making him jerk away.

"Don't be a baby," Ste said, smiling a little, his dry lips bitten. "How you been anyway?"

"Alright," Brendan said through clenched teeth. "You?"

"Yeah, yeah, good." The sharp part shot through him again and Brendan's face creased. "Sorry," Ste said, returning back to his kit bag. He rummaged for a moment and then a plastic sealed pack of bandages fell to the floor of the car. They both reached down to pick up the pack and their hands touched. Ste's warmth fluttered over Brendan's iced fingers just for a second and Ste gave an awkward hint of a laugh.

"Your fingers are cold," he said, shifting his gaze away from direct contact. It seemed strange to acknowledge their bodily contact but then he clarified the comment with advice. "Just press them against the side of your nose for a moment, it'll do instead of an ice pack."

Brendan did as he was told. "I feel like an idiot."

Ste rustled with laughter, refraining from saying he looked like one but his look said enough. Brendan saw him produce a packet of steri-strips from his bag to cover the cut on the side of his face.

"Bit of a dick your boss, is he?"

"Something like that," Brendan said. Steven leaned in close again. He smelt clean, probably having showered after his shift and sprayed with a musky body spray. Just for a second, to get his balance, his left hand rested on Brendan's leg. That was enough then for Brendan to notice it: an engagement ring. It looked like his own wedding band, only thicker and silver. Brendan could imagine the weight of it.

"You've been busy then," Brendan said, looking from his hand and directly into Ste's eyes. He was close enough to see the clarity of how blue they were, like a hot blank sky in the summer, yet his pupils were ravenous in size.

Ste glances down at his hand and took it away, burying it between his legs on the seat. "Yeah," he said, bowing his head but only for a moment. He laid the second strip onto Brendan's head, smoothing it flat with vivid concentration. Brendan could feel his breath against his ear lobe.

"How long?"

"Few weeks," Ste said with a brief nod. He was ecstatic or boastful about it. It almost seemed apologetic.

"Okay."

Then he was on Ste, kissing him. His lips pushed a solid force against his mouth, a hand in his hair and the other gripping the fabric of his jacket. A groan snapped from his chest with the distance finally closed and the domination of his kiss was airless, uncompromised. It was only when Ste pushed him off, hands against his chest, that Brendan realised he hadn't been reciprocated, that his mouth had forced an open kiss onto Ste's still lips.

"I'm engaged!" Ste said, holding up his hand in weak defence. Brendan saw his tongue move to wet his lips and they blossomed into a blood pink. His mouth opened, breath sighing from it, but he hadn't moved away, hadn't resisted the gravity of his body weighing into Brendan's. Brendan risked leaning in closer. Their shoulders touched, the fur of Brendan's collar petted Steven's neck. Brendan's gaze was inescapable and he'd coaxed Steven's stare too until the both lingered on the wet of each other's mouths, the glitter of teeth and tongue under the car's lights. He saw Ste's hands come together and his fingers twisted around the ring, spiralling it until it slipped off his finger like the cork freeing from a bottle. He placed it on the dashboard and the metal click sounded in the car.

Ste tipped forward, lips parted. The tip of Brendan's tongue sat poised ready to catch him and their mouths met with deliberately slow intimacy. With a fluid click and tongues settling together, Ste reached up to the ceiling and turned out the car's inner lights. Brendan's eyes fell closed again once his hand and the yearn of that deep kiss followed with a high moan from Ste, his hands sliding under Brendan's coat and transferring body heat.

Once again it was Ste who paused, his eyes heavy lidded and fixated on Brendan's mouth. "Fuck me," he said, demanding and direct even in a whisper. Brendan's hands dragged up Ste's thighs until they pulled him forward, around his waist, mashing their bodies together. Brendan's mouth launched at him with fierce authority, their resistance snapping like a bungee rope. His nails scratched at the shaven back of his hair, sucking at Ste's lips and tongue like his lust was never ending. Ste's arms snaked from around Brendan's face to hook behind his neck and with their mouths breaking, Ste ambled over, squeezing himself past the wheel until he had half-straddled Brendan's lap.

Ste murmured, panting and huffing with dizzy laughter, giggling more at Brendan's serious focus. His hands pushed under Ste's clothes and into his trousers, squeezing handfuls of his arse. Brendan was grateful at Ste's loose clothing. They kissed in unrelenting desperation and Brendan couldn't believe for all these years of pining over him that it had taken this long. His senses were spiked, intense in his hysterical desire that nothing had any consequence.

Ste tackled the leather of Brendan's belt, loosening it deftly and breaking lip contact only to graze his teeth along Brendan's stubbled jaw. "Fuck you?"

Ste nodded, returning to kiss his mouth. "Take me somewhere. Anywhere."

Brendan drove the minimal distance necessary, shaking sweat from his brow and watching over as Ste pushed down his clothes past his hips in preparation and wiped the back of his hand across his red ragged mouth. Brendan knew where to drive to; it was almost instinct, prewritten. There were no flowers or four-poster beds, no clean white sheets or watercolour sunsets. It was a fucking freezing night in January and he parked the car at a disused petrol garage, behind the abandoned car wash, which still advertised discounts, out of sight.

He unlocked the doors, finishing the unbuckling of his jeans and before he looked up Ste had left the car. They twisted up in a kiss against the bonnet, warmed by the electric thrill of the encounter. Ste pushed a miniature tin of Vaseline into Brendan's palm – another prize from the first aid kit – and turned around for him.

In the cold, Brendan's battered face stung but he barely noticed. Goosebumps feathered Ste's arse cheeks and he ran his hands over them, just about clinging to the heat from the car. He bathed his forefinger in the jelly and laboured it inside Ste, taking no time at all in their eagerness. Ste's cries muffled into his forearm as he bent across the car's paintwork. The weather was bracing but they barely noticed.

"I ain't got any rubbers," Brendan said, pre-emptively slathering Vaseline onto his cock. He used to keep a stash in the car for random hook ups but he'd been more careful to hide his trails lately, buying the few he needed as and when – in toilets and bars.

"You clean?"

"I got a wife, what do you think. You?"

"I'm faithful," Ste said, losing his ironic words as they were groaned up by the presence of Brendan's two fingers opening him up. Brendan's slick fingers arched underneath to touch his balls, jerking off his cock in vicious hand movements just because he could.

Pinning Ste to the car, Brendan pushed inside him. The resistance made his groans punch out from his chest, surging into a tight rhythm when Ste's body freed up for him. He heard a string of Ste's expletives through his ascending cries, clawing at the bonnet of the car. Fucking him consumed Brendan in a fit of hedonism, like he was drugged on something more than painkillers. His body flooded with heat, muscles feeling flammable all sensed tuned to milking pleasure from Steven. The moment had been inevitable since their first meeting.

Ste was unashamedly vocal as Brendan's hips slammed time and time again into him. His neck arched, stroked by Brendan's fingertips and his pleadings didn't go unfulfilled. Brendan's grunts were matted with clumsy handed strokes of Ste's cock, crippling him with feverish pleasure and he knew he wanted Ste to come before he did. He pressed his eyes shut, focusing on his breathing, trying not to let Steven's hitches and cries distract him until he felt a warm spurt of liquid over his hand and Ste slump against the car. Brendan left his body to recuperate for a moment, stroking his hairy thighs, before he bent him forward and pounded into him for one final burst.

They shared sticky kisses in the front seat of the car redressing before Ste pushed back on his engagement ring.

"It was always going to happen. You know it and I know it," Brendan said, admiring the state he'd left Ste in, hair ruffled.

"Don't stop me feeling guilty, does it?" Ste said.

Brendan wiped his hands clean, shining up his wedding ring too. He looked over at Ste, a small bulge had reappeared in his trousers again. "You want me to suck you off?" Ste's grin matched his own and he ran his tongue across his lips.

Just then his phone lit up with a message. He must have put it on silent earlier without realising. He wasn't even going to look at it but it had caught Ste's eye.

"Voicemail," Ste said, handing it over and shrinking back into the seat.

Brendan had the phone between his ear and his shoulder, opening up Ste's trousers and listened to the message. He didn't see the notification of fourteen missed calls.

"_Hello Mr Brady, this is Susanna calling from High Grove Hospital. You might have noticed a few missed calls on your phone – nothing to worry about – it's your wife Mrs Eileen Brady. She's finally gone into labour. If you can come to the Thompson ward as soon as possible. It's good news! You've got a very healthy baby girl and mum and baby are doing very well and can't wait to see you."_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Sorry it's been a bit of a wait! This chapter is set the same year as last. Hope you enjoy as much as the last ;)_

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_:_

_**2014 – March – Brendan**_

In his efforts to repair the damage of his absence at her birth, Brendan poured everything he had into loving Aoife. She had a shock of dark hair already and bright enquiring eyes. It had given him a new purpose and a new badge of manliness. She'd rekindled his love for Eileen too, because together they realised how lucky they were, holding her in their arms. The guilt swelled his brain and he channelled this into getting up in the night to comfort Aoife and take her for walks in the pram. At the same time, he bundled her up in his own protectiveness, desperate to look after her.

"What's gotten into you?" Eileen had said fondly stroking the back of his neck as Aoife slept in his arms. Eileen had just woken from a well needed nap.

Brendan shushed her but his answer glowed from the outside – the pride of being a father again. He reckoned it was instinctive and a part of him hoped that this might be a new beginning for him as a parent. He had just forgotten it was like this with the boys too, the euphoria. It didn't last. Just as he couldn't keep his desires away and stay faithful. It never lasted. Soon the goodness in him would fade and he'd be back to the rotten core.

After fucking Ste, Brendan had dropped him a few streets away from his new flat and the air between them festered in frosty, sordid guilt. It felt even worse to have to explain to him the reasons why he had to abort their hook-up. He saw the look on Ste's face then, the horror and the attempt to swallow down the bile he must have felt.

"While we were…?" Ste said, raising a fist to his mouth as if he was going to be sick.

Brendan affirmed it, twitching with the conflict of wanting to be rid of Ste and rush to be at the hospital but at the same time longing to be with Steven.

"Why didn't you tell me she was pregnant?!" Ste said, teeth clamped together as he pushed open the car door.

"That would have made a difference?"

"Yes!" Ste said, hissing. "Don't you think I feel bad enough that you're married with kids anyway?!"

"You can't help who you want," Brendan said, eyeing him darkly with his hands braced on the steering wheel. Brendan wasn't sure him having one more child made a difference.

Ste reared away, groaning with frustration. "Go and see your wife. Forget this – you and me - ever happened." It was too dark for Brendan to tell if Ste was upset, all he had saw was the disappearing hunched shoulders of Ste returning home. Lashing out in frustration, he thumped the dashboard, sucking in air to calm down before heading to the hospital. If only things were as simple as to return to Eileen and forget the consuming obsession he had for Steven. He felt a magnetic pull to him, even more intense now that they'd had sex.

When he arrived at the hospital, Eileen's blissed out mood seemed to absolve her of anger towards him for not being there. She held Aoife in her arms looking pale and exhausted and just relieved at his eventual arrival.

"I'm so sorry," he said, pressing his mouth to her damp forehead. He could still taste Steven underneath it all – a sign of how things were, Steven always underlying his every move.

"She's beautiful," Eileen had said, tears forming in her eyes. For that moment it felt as though the recent struggling years between them were removed, starting fresh encouraged by the birth of their little girl, a symbol of their love and marriage. She reached up to kiss his mouth, placing a delicate touch over his repaired cuts and nicks from the fight. "You got fixed up," she said, unaware how guilt ridden the smile he gave her was.

_**April – Brendan**_

Three long months had dragged on through Brendan's life since the night with Steven. Some nights, just as he drifted into sleep, Brendan experienced flashes of their bodies together, the taste of his yearning mouth. Their sex had hooked into his bloodstream like a drug and the withdrawals had left him waking in sweats, head aching with the turmoil of affection he'd prompted. It wasn't just a hunger for his body Brendan had started to experience – that could be diluted with distractions of other men and adrenaline if that was needed – it was a greater longing, one he couldn't find a place or reason for in his mind. He couldn't understand it yet.

Eileen was tired and ratty through lack of sleep on their next hospital visit. Aoife had been born with a minor breathing problem and although she'd settled now, her cries cracking the frosty temperature of the house, the hospital had requested a check-up visit in Out Patients. Brendan knew seeing Steven again would flare up the torturous feelings he attempted to forbid himself from, but like he dreaded, there Steven stood, hovering by reception to make an enquiry. He leant over the counter, his body stretching under the blue uniform. Brendan knew if he could see Steven's eyes from where he stood, he'd see they were just as vivid.

Brendan's tongue dried up in his mouth as Eileen motioned to the reception desk to find out where they were headed. Panicked, Brendan grabbed her arm. He couldn't see Steven, not like this, not now.

"What'ya doing?" she snapped, the whites of her eyes widening.

"I know the way. C'mon," he said, lying and heading with the pram in the opposite direction of reception so he wouldn't be forced to confront Steven with wife and baby in tow.

But whatever aims Brendan had in avoiding Steven, they failed. As he sat with Eileen and a sleeping Aoife, thoughts of Steven had tarnished his best efforts to keep away and once more he felt compelled to find him and be with him.

_**May - Ste  
**_  
He could just about stifle a yawn as he left the hospital behind. Being eight in the evening, it was already dark outside. He preferred the day shifts, of course, but they came with their own busy drawbacks but he was glad to be heading into the weekend - which for once, he had off. Adam's firm had been pushing him into longer hours, including some weekends and Ste hadn't really spent that much time with him. On the surface he'd made all the right noises to Adam, complaining that they weren't seeing much of each other but there was a freedom in it that he enjoyed. If he wanted to wake at midday on his day off and eat cereal straight from the box then he could.

Regrettably the freedom also allowed him too much time to think, too much time to over analyse the guilt he felt at betraying Adam. It had been a horrible mistake sleeping with Brendan. He couldn't excuse himself for it. Brendan had worked his way under his skin and couldn't be scratched out. Ste kept laying blame at Brendan's door as if the whole experience had been a solo event, just a desperate married man preying on Ste's vulnerability. Truth was, he wasn't vulnerable. He had been complicit - stronger than that - eager, almost as much as Brendan had. The worse thing was if they hadn't been disturbed by the call about Brendan's wife giving birth then it would have happened again and then it would have been less easy to pin it down as a mistake. A one-time mistake. Ste found that he could easily absolve himself from guilt if he acknowledged it had just been once. He reasoned that plenty of people had long term affairs and straying once might be a common thing that all relationships go through. And Brendan was married with kids, if anyone was the guilty one it was him.

The one-time occurrence excuse followed him around, even on mornings in the shower where he'd touch himself and be struck immediately with images of Brendan in his mind. He let himself imagine Brendan's hands on him. It was only fantasy, it wasn't harming anyone.

On the way home he considered deviating to the shops to pick up some cans and something sugary but he did that earlier in the week and was too full and hyper to eat the dinner Adam had made. He thought better of it and began walking. Just one street away from the hospital he could sense someone behind him so he turned, expecting an animal or just a random stranger. There was no one, just an empty rain splashed pavement and he felt a bit of an idiot. The footsteps had stopped so he started walking again only to hear the pace again behind him.

"Who's there?!" he called out, turning again. He shivered, cold seeping in under his jacket and uniform. "I can hear you followin' me!" He aimed for indignant in his tone but fear had clenched his throat. He wasn't stood on the nicest estate, the sort any decent parent would tell you to avoid late at night.

Silence. Then after a rustle, Ste huffing and puffing with irritation, a voice crawled out through the dark. "It's me, Steven. It's me."

"What?! You're following me?!"

"I just needed to see you, that's all," Brendan said, stepping out from his hiding place and illuminated by the street lamp.

Ste scoffed. He felt a rush of warm, relieved adrenaline but his arms folded across his chest astounded that Brendan was following him home from work. He knew it had been a mistake letting Brendan drive him home after they'd had sex. They couldn't go back to being strangers when Brendan had the upper hand and knew where he lived. "What the hell do you think you're doing following me in the middle of the night? You could've been anyone! You could have had a knife!" Ste saw a look of smugness present itself in Brendan's face but Ste shot him down. "I've got nothing to say to you, alright? Stalkin' me ain't gonna change that."

"I ain't got your number, have I? I can't exactly write you a note when you've got lover boy living with you."

"All the more reason to leave me alone then." Ste turned, began striding away.

"Don't you wanna hear what I got to say?!"

"No. I told you, I ain't interested. What we did was a one off, a stupid one time mistake. It's done. Over. Finished." Ste had squeezed into an alleyway, slowing down as he weaved in between the barriers to stop cyclists. He became grateful for the lack of light in the alleyway and the fact his back was turned away from Brendan because his skin mottled pink. Seeing him again had resumed all the latent desires he'd carried around with him as baggage. Even the thought of Brendan being so determined, that he would follow him home curled Ste's insides with intrigue. It was so very wrong and sordid, but he couldn't deny the surges of attraction. Brendan made him feel desirable, he was hunted down and consuming Brendan's attention so much so that he acted irrationally and riskily. What man could resist having that power over someone? Ste had never even come close to a connection like that.

"Are you sure about that, Steven?"

Brendan had bridged the gap and before Ste had realised it, he too had slowed, helping Brendan in his cause to catch up. He could feel Brendan's warm breath penetrate the night's chill. Ste's heart thumped in his chest. It seemed to rattle and shake his blood, his principles. Physically it'd be so easy to pick up his feet and walk away, confining Brendan's memory to the mistake he'd sworn it was. He felt the weight of Brendan's hands press down on his shoulders. Their shadows merged into one and a blanket of warm air licked across the nape of his neck with Brendan's mouth buried there.

"I want you," he said, breathing heavily into Ste's ear from behind, sliding his hands around Ste's waist.

Ste's relenting moan slipped from his lips and he reached out with the flat of his palms to steady himself against the wall that Brendan steered him towards.

"Brendan…" His body ached, murmuring into the night. "Don't stop," he said, welcoming the pressure of Brendan's hands roaming his body. His weight slumped forward against the wall and he positioned Brendan's hands between his legs, spreading them apart. Brendan's breath panted hot and sweet against his neck and under his collar and Ste could feel the outline of his hard dick pressing up against him. He lathered Brendan's movements with the encouragements of his voice, groaning at the way Brendan's hands came around him and his rough palms grazed against his cock. They weren't making skin to skin contact but Ste could barely breathe from it. He wound his hips, grinding against Brendan and heard the vibration of pleasure ripple through his groans.

His nurse's uniform fitted loose at the waist and needed little persuasion for it to be pulled down, but as the air caught his hips, Ste stopped him. "Not here," he said. He span around, kissing Brendan full on the mouth, letting his hand slide between them. "I know where we can go."

::

They kissed and kissed in the car park of the Travelodge and somewhere after the earnest desperation and hunger, laughter had sprung from nowhere and they had to sober up in the reception. It was one of those out of town anonymous places, the teenage girl on reception looked bored in the job, and Ste hung around reading the leaflet stand while Brendan paid. He paid in cash, not wanting the questions when his bank statements came. Ste started to wonder then what kind of guy just carries around wads of cash like that. They exchanged lust driven smiles when the receptionist was busying herself with the paperwork.

"You got any money for the machine?"

"You hungry?"

"Yeah…and…" Ste eyed the packet of condoms in the vending machine. They'd risked it before but he wasn't going to be that stupid again.

Brendan hadn't heard the last comment and turned back to the receptionist. "Not the sort of place to do room service, no?" He smirked at her and laughed dryly. She looked at him with a dumb expression. "No? Okay. Good." He handed Ste some coins.

Brendan had all paid up by the time Ste returned – a bar of chocolate each and a pack of condoms in hand. The receptionist pretended not to notice and wished them a nice stay. She'd not see them check out three hours later either, only find their key returned.

::

"Fuck fuck fuck!"

Ste's knees weakened, staggering against the door, his bar of chocolate half eaten and abandoned on the vanity desk. Brendan had picked up exactly where they'd been interrupted last time, sinking to his knees and keeping his promise. Ste was almost embarrassed at how his cock reacted instantly to the sight of Brendan on his knees, a surprising sight to see a man like him so submissive and powerless. Ste had started to tell him how he liked being sucked off but Brendan had silenced him. His tongue flicked the head of his cock, spurning little slanted cries from Ste's slack mouth. Brendan took all of him into his mouth, laboured breaths spurting through his nose, and kept his eyes open through the deep throat. It was all Ste could manage not to buck his hips and he gasped in large gulps of air, biting back cries that his throat had gargled. Brendan's mouth coloured dark red and sucked him tightly, not giving up until Ste had come.

The kiss after, tinged with his own sour taste, had Ste throwing his body around Brendan's and being hoisted to the bed. Once there Ste stripped completely and stretched out across the bed flushed and light headed. He caught sight of his left hand and immediately his mood crumpled. Brendan was undressed and erect by now, kneeling on the bed and locating the condoms.

Ste sat up and bent over the bed reaching for his phone.

With a hint of devilishness in his voice, Brendan spoke. "Don't move." He shuffled up behind Ste, hands on his hips. Ste felt the arch of his back exaggerated and Brendan had pulled him so that his hot, lithe tongue wriggled with saliva across his hole.

Ste moaned, forgetting the way he'd frosted over. "Wait…" He moaned again, Brendan spreading his cheeks apart. "Just wait."

After a moment longer of exploration, Brendan gave in. Ste found Adam in his contacts and called.

"Hi babe…yeah I'm sorry, I should'va called earlier. Yeah…yeah I know. Someone's gone off sick you see and I said I'd cover….I know. I know but I was thinking right, it's more money innit – yeah we gotta save up for the wedding and that…yeah I know. Yeah don't wait up. Okay. Love you too babe. Bye."

"_Babe_?" Brendan questioned.

Ste worked his way up the bed again. "Yeah, and what do you call your _wife_?"

Brendan flashed a darker glare in his direction.

"Don't get funny with me n' jealous over 'im when you've got a whole family at home." He wasn't being jokey now, he meant it.

Brendan tipped back a swig of drink that he had from a silver coat flask. "Ain't jealous," he said, running his hand along Ste's spine when he laid out flat beside Brendan. "You came back to me, didn't ya?"

"S'pose I did," Ste said, trembling at the ticklish delicate sweep of his back.

"Now you gonna roll over? I wanna look at you this time." Brendan's fingers played through Ste's hair as he settled on his back. He let the fingers pop in his mouth, wet with saliva. "You good to go?" He nudged their lips together, drawing up onto his arms. Ste folded up, knees apart. His eyes dissolved behind his lids as Brendan's fingers sunk into him up to the knuckle.

Ste's arm reached up, tangling his grip into the headboard. It didn't matter that the room was a bit tatty and you could hear the faint sounds of doors banging on the floor above. It didn't matter that Adam was at home, cling-filming dinner he'd cooked and grumbling about the hospital abusing Ste's generous nature. It didn't matter that Brendan's kids, including the newborn baby, and wife were thinking he was busy at work. Brendan eased into him, solid, thick and heart-stoppingly masculine. Ste felt as if he might blackout and the burn of initial pain was just enough to keep him rooted in the room until it melted into a visceral pleasure that he wished he could bottle. It didn't matter that when their eyes met, bodies crippled in ecstasy Ste had never felt anything like it. It didn't matter.

At least, that's what Ste told himself to avoid the guilt that came with letting a man, who wasn't his future husband, come inside him and his mouth several times that night.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I loved writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy reading it just as much! Love to hear your thoughts!

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_**2015 – January – Brendan**_

The plinking of his phone alarm had woken them both up. Their heads rang with a night of whiskey drinking; their bodies aching of sex. The excuses were finely honed. Ste's excuses came easily and he'd proved himself an expert liar. He claimed to be working a night shift. Another one on top of the last. As for Brendan, Eileen had lost interest in asking. If he said he was working late at the club and would crash in the office, she'd accepted it. She might not have believed it but she accepted it.

Brendan's joints clicked and his morning sigh seemed to disturb Ste from his foetal position, head on Brendan's chest. He grunted and they'd formed this comfortable routine where Ste would slide off into his own space and Brendan would shower.

After his shower he flipped the kettle on. His eyes scanned the bed. The man sprawled out on it was everything he wanted and couldn't have. He sat on the edge, hanging in that limbo of wanting to preserve the moment but knowing they needed to check out of the hotel and back into their real lives. Ste dozed on his front, head thrown to the side. Brendan let his fingers graze the nape of his neck, rubbing against the grain of his downy hair. He regretted thinking it, the thought that had nestled and spawned a monster of a feeling in his head, but he was starting to feel a greater pull towards him than just sex.

Ste stirred, stretching his arms out from under the duvet.

"Morning," Brendan said, suppressing the smile that in his company felt so natural. He wasn't supposed to be like this. Brendan Brady was a man of few words, few smiles – striking fear into every man he came across.

"Is it time to go yet?" Ste asked, a twinge of disappointment in his voice.

"There's a bit of time."

Brendan thought back to yesterday, his daughter's first birthday. Better men would have enjoyed that moment, that first cake, those first memories. But better men would have been there for her birth, there at night while she cried. Brendan had spent her entire birthday wishing the hours away to meet with Steven at the hotel. They'd not managed to meet since before Christmas and now they'd decided to make it a regular liaison Brendan just couldn't help himself. He didn't ask Steven about his life as it stood now because he didn't want to hear it. The ring on his finger was still there but its obstacle had become meaningless. If Steven felt guilty he rarely showed it and that benefitted Brendan's conscience too.

"You got dressed," Ste said. Brendan felt his muscles uncoil as Ste's hands worked across the fabric of his shirt. Moments of tenderness like this had grown in the mornings and it displaced the heady rush of lust from the nights. It was never like this with other men either. He'd been quick to shove them off, to slam doors and block phonecalls.

"And?"

Their mouths met in the middle, Brendan sinking his minty tongue into Ste's bed-warm mouth. He eased his shoulders until with an brief nudge, Ste stretched out on his front, elbows digging into the bed. Brendan drew back the covers, peeling them away, and still in his fully pressed trousers and shirt, climbed onto the bed. Without a word, Ste pulled his hips, arching up onto his knees. A flutter of giggles snorted in his chest when Brendan's hands placed flat onto his arse cheeks, thumbs pulling him open.

"Don't leave any marks, right?"

Brendan didn't need to be reminded. The last time they'd met, they weren't even out of the reception – with the blonde girl chewing gum – when Ste berated him. He'd had to come up with some ridiculous tale of how he'd ended up with suspicious bite-mark bruises on his inner thigh to reassurance Adam.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Brendan said, the tail end of his sentence lost as tongue spread thick between Ste's cheeks. Ste's air puffed out in struggled breaths from the head of the bed and he squirmed, making Brendan pin him down with a hand on his back. Brendan knew his fresh stubble burnt but he knew Ste enjoyed a little discomfort with his pleasure.

Groaning into Ste, Brendan breathed in his sleep-heavy body and let his eyes slip closed. His tongue fucked him in shallow and then deeper strokes, repaying his stunned cries. Then without chance of recovery, Brendan wrestled him onto his back, spreading his legs apart. He held the base of Steven's spine in his hands and took his thrusts into command, taking his cock deep into his mouth. Ste writhed, limbs and head thrown across the bed like his movements were uncontrollable. Brendan saw him slip from raptured wild to eyes and mouth clenched, struggling to cry anything but sounds. Brendan could never tire of it.

When spent, Ste looked dragged through a storm, his eye other worldly. Brendan smoothed down his appearance in the bathroom mirror, rinsing his mouth. They were about to return back to their lives.

::

:

_**April – Amy**_

She felt tears rise up into her eyes, boiling them. Her hand shook against the side of the cup. She looked at Leah in the play area and then back to Ste. Unsurprisingly his head was bowed, guilt coming off him in ugly fumes.

"What the hell are you playing at Ste?" she said. She tried to keep her voice down in the café but the anger took over. Thankfully the low hubbub of the other customers muffled her outrage. "I don't even feel like I know you."

"You're acting like, like, I chose to get involved in this!"

"And didn't you?"

"No!" he cried, causing a passing waiter to jolt at the volume. Ste's voice lowered again. "It just happened."

She scoffed. Those clichéd lines. "Before or after Adam proposed?" Amy asked like it mattered. She felt crushed just thinking of Adam. His world would be broken.

"After…sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of?"

Ste had that shifty look again, like he used to get at school and before they grew up, like when she found out he was being beaten black and blue by his step dad, like when he confessed to being gay. "We've known each other – just sorta keep bumping into each other – for ages, years. We didn't do anything not for ages-"

"Oh well that makes it okay then!"

"Hear me out will ya?!" Ste said, banging his fist on the table. Amy's tea slopped into the saucer. "It went on and on for years, all this skirting around…flirting. And then he kissed me and I wanted to so we did and then things happened and keep happening…"

Amy shook her head, pressing her hands across her face. "So why haven't you come clean with Adam and ended it? Why are we here today?! We're supposed to be getting bits for the wedding!"

Ste grimaced. "I know," he said. "But it's complicated."

"How?"

"Well I love Adam, don't I?" Ste said, weakly. His fingers twisted and untwisted the ring. "Wanna spend the rest of my life with him."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do!"

"And what about this other bloke?"

"I don't _love_ him…" Ste said as if he'd been accused. His eyes had bloomed wide when he said it, his head recoiling. He flushed red. "He's married."

"Married?!" Amy's hands flew into the air. "Steven!" She had every intention of picking up her bags and walking out on him, but at that moment Leah came charging over and threw herself at her godfather Ste. With Billy out of the picture, he was practically a father to her.

"Alright sweetheart?" he said, clearly pleased at the distraction. "Are you ready to buy a beautiful bridesmaid dress?"

"Yes!" Leah said, her grin spreading wide.

Amy's glare was fixed right at him.

::

Even though they hadn't had much chance to talk, Amy's anger had been chipped away by Leah's excitement at trying on dresses, although being surrounded by reminders of weddings weren't helping. Her mind ached with the questions: How could Ste be betraying Adam like this? Adam who would do anything for him, Adam who helped him pay for a new start: new job, new flat, new life. And he was prepared to squander all this for the odd sordid night in a grimy hotel for a relative stranger – a married man! What did he really know about this man?!

They were making their way back to the bus station, considering stopping off for a sandwich when Amy spotted Eileen Brady coming out of a kitchenware store. It was the pram she spotted first, sleek and modern; it was a Mercedes of the buggy world. She wasn't surprised, after all she'd heard from Eileen herself (she was quite the boaster) that her husband wasn't shy of flashing the cash. Eileen never said it but Amy sensed that he wasn't around for the family much but contributed with his wallet.

"Hello!" Amy said, tapping her on the shoulder. They hugged immediately and Amy was lost in cooing over the gorgeous little Aoife when she realised her rudeness at having not introduced Ste.

"This must be Dean?" Eileen said, assuming Ste was Amy's boyfriend. She nodded her head in Ste's direction.

Amy looked towards him, but all his words seemed to have dried up so she spoke for him. "This is my oldest and best friend Ste; he's Leah's godfather too."

Eileen smiled and then looked towards her husband, a tall, dark and brooding man with a striking moustache. "This is Brendan who you've heard all about."

The men looked at each other, without so much as a grunt – as men do when they're awkwardly introduced by women. Something in Eileen's husband changed and he struck out his hand, smiling tightly. "Pleasure to meet you, Amy." He was alarmingly handsome, charming.

"No Paddy with you today then?" Amy asked as Leah held onto Ste's legs. He didn't bother to contribute to the conversation but she still resented him so was glad of his disinterest.

"Ach no, he's at Scottie Lewis's birthday – you know the one?" Eileen said. She looped her arm around Brendan's waist. "We're just getting some bits while we've gotta bit of peace. And you?"

"Dresses!" Leah chipped in, almost falling forward in her excitement.

"We've been looking at bridesmaids dresses for Leah. Ste's getting married," Amy said, with a charged look towards Ste.

"Oh congratulations," Eileen said, her face creasing with a smile. Her husband offered a polite smile too but remained silent. "God we've got our 20th anniversary coming up in a few years!"

Brendan gave his wife's middle a squeeze. "Feels like only yesterday," he said kissing the side of her head. "When's the big day?" he asked, directing it at Ste but not quite looking at him.

Ste's reply wasn't the response of a man happy and excited about it. He gave his response quietly and reluctantly. "Next summer."

Brendan pulled his mouth into an arch like he was considering it and nodded. He looked at Amy and despite herself, his gaze made her heart flutter. "Me and the missus have got a swanky hotel booked for our anniversary this year," he said.

"Have we?!" Eileen said. Perhaps most wives would be swept off their feet by a seemingly spontaneous and romantic gesture – even Amy herself was matching Brendan's grin – but not Eileen. She seemed more suspicious than anything.

"Well it was supposed to be a surprise but as we're talking grand romantic gestures…"

Amy side-glanced Ste, she could tell he was still stinging from their earlier conversation.

"We'll leave you to it," Amy said, shuffling off and almost jealous of the way Brendan had his arm wrapped around Eileen's shoulders. It was a shame Dean wasn't so affectionate in public.

::

:

_**April - Brendan**_

His lips ravaged Ste's apart, his tongue poker hot and licking the moans out of him. His body was the only one to cave to Brendan's desires but fight back with an equal lust. When Brendan pushed against him, Ste's lips sucked at his, teeth grazing his lips. Their bodies were slick with cum. It was a hook-up spurred by jealousy. As soon as they'd met up in town Brendan had him on the phone, commanding him to meet. He'd rattled Ste into jealousy too, it turned out, and managed to make him come even before he had stepped out of his underwear. He'd stroked him with single digits all the while whispering his intentions slow and darkly into his ear. In the end all it had taken was Brendan nuzzling him with nose and tongue through his boxer shorts in a torturous tease to have his knees buckling.

Brendan trudged to reception to buy some condoms. He'd left Ste in bed, mouth red and eyes glassy. He didn't keep notes but the boy gave the best head he'd ever had. Fearless. Determined. Tight. Steady breaths in and out from his nose. He made sweet little coos of enjoyment when his lips glossed over the head, rubbing friction with his tongue. They made Brendan want to pin him down onto the bed and fuck him forever.

The blonde girl at reception, the same one as usual, seemed to be keeping herself busy on her mobile, texting – or tweeting, whatever it was the kids do. Declan was the same, never off it. He'd be off to university soon. He was almost a man. The girl – Kelly, her name badge said – looked up from her screen to acknowledge Brendan's existence and then returned back to it when she saw he was only interested in the vending machine.

Brendan typed in the keypad for the lubricated johnnies and the packet of Skittles Steven had asked for. Skittles! Still, his kisses might taste of strawberry and that was more favourable than tasting his own cum.

When he returned to the bedroom Steven was clearly texting his fancy-man as he sneaked his phone away as soon as Brendan had clicked the door locked.

"Missing you already is he?" Brendan asked dryly.

Ste's mouth tightened with irritation. "Did you get my Skittles?"

"Knock yourself out," Brendan said throwing the packet at him.

Ste considered them for a moment and then rose up to kneel, having a change of tact. He patted the bed down. "Don't get like that, not when we're not here for long." Ste couldn't stay the whole night apparently. He was on the clock. He had plans.

Brendan sighed, slumping down on the bed. He wasn't going to get mad at Ste, but he resented the lack of control inflicted on him. Steven saddled up beside him, beginning to undress him.

"You in a hurry?"

Ste took Brendan's hand and pushed his finger inside the warm cleft of his arse, straddling Brendan's lap. "I just want you," he said, almost timidly, pleadingly. Brendan sculpted his hands over Ste's hairy thighs, leaving white pressure marks where his skin was tender.

::

:

_**May – Kelly**_

Kelly felt a painful swell of nerves block her throat as she stood on Declan's doorstep. It took a lot of guts for her to agree to meet a guy's parents, but she'd been dating Declan for about four months and he thought it'd be nice.

His mum welcomed her in immediately, the smells of dinner wafting through the air as she stood in the hallway. Eileen seemed thrilled to have her as a house guest although she was clearly stressed at having a one year old in the house. Still, Kelly felt comfortable enough to cuddle up with Declan on the sofa before dinner.

As they were settled at the table the front door crashed closed.

"That'll be da," Declan said, half rolling his eyes. She'd picked up from the little Declan had revealed that him and his dad weren't close. For starters there weren't any photos of them on Facebook and Declan said he was always working.

"In here," Eileen called out and Kelly tried to quickly finish her mouthful so that she could greet Declan's dad.

When he came in through the kitchen door, dressed in his trademark suit her heart stopped, the colour draining from her face. She knew that face. She'd seen him countless times in the past year. She couldn't forget. Always paying in cash. Always with the same young guy. Always there clearly to have sex with him. Sometimes spending the night, sometimes leaving before.

She felt like she was going to throw up and Declan's dad looked the same.

::

:

_**August – Eileen**_

"You still haven't told me!" Amy said, placing down her Pimms. They were sat in Eileen's garden. Paddy and Leah in the paddling pool and Aoife napping in the shade. "How was your anniversary away?"

Eileen rolled her eyes. "Don't even go there," she said, "Brendan only got called in for some work emergency. Police raid or something." Retelling the story made it sound even more fake than when Brendan had told it himself; she knew that. She had half hoped that by going away for the night they might rekindle something. Brendan had lost all his drive; they hadn't had sex in four months. She'd tried. God she'd tried everything. Even the awful magazine sex tips. Trying to do it with a baby next door was a bit of a mood killer but she'd made the effort on several occasions. And it wasn't as if the time four months ago had been particularly pleasurable. She'd given him a blow job and then far from the romantic moment she'd envisioned afterwards he'd taken her from behind and kept the lights off. He'd muttered about trying other things (what was it with men and their obsession with anal sex?) but they'd done it once in their twenties and she'd sworn never again, so it was another no. Since then he'd barely touched her.

"Oh no, what a shame," Amy said. Distracted momentarily by looking over to the kids.

"How's your friend getting on with the wedding planning?" Eileen asked, resisting the urge to reveal it'd be doomed in a few years like hers was. Even more so that he was having one of these _gay_ weddings. That was wrong to start with.

Amy looked thoughtful for a moment. "Can I tell you something? Only it's a complete secret and Ste would absolutely kill me if it got out. Not to mention…"

Eileen leant in close, like they were best friends. "Course. I swear."

Amy flattened out her skirt. "Only, Ste's been…and it's been really difficult to me knowing but Ste's…"

"Go on…"

"He's been having an affair with a married man."

"Jesus Christ," Eileen said, "Oh how awful." She shook her head and then took a long drink.

"It's been going on for months. I just…I just don't know what he's thinking!"

"Well, maybe what they say is true about gay men you know – they just can't settle down. It's all about sex for them." Eileen shrugged. "I'm sure your Ste's a nice guy but what about his poor boyfriend. And a married man? Jesus. His poor wife."


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: You're going to want to kill me at the end of this chapter but the next chapter will be a direct follow on so I hope you'll cope. Hope you'll enjoy despite wishing me dead ;)_

_::_

_:_

_**2016 – February – Declan**_

He'd come back home from university for the holidays and that's when she'd finished with him. She evaded any concrete reasons although he sensed there was more to it that it simply being the distance. That had been a struggle, true, and he'd been tempted by other girls, but he'd been serious about Kelly. She'd been funny and sparky, never mincing her words and then sometime last year she'd fallen quiet. He wondered at first whether it was down to him, whether he'd rushed her too fast into something. He guessed he was a romantic guy, impulsive and passionate. Heart first. That clearly hadn't been passed on through his genes, neither his mum nor dad were like that.

She'd sat with him bundled up in a coat and scarf in a coffee shop, saying what a difficult decision it was. She pressed her hand to her forehead and said it quickly, so fast that he couldn't ask her to clarify and sometimes he thought he must have imagined it.

"I think your dad's hiding something from your family. I saw him when I was at work and it's none of my business but I just…he's not who you think he is."

Almost as soon as she'd said that she'd left and Declan had sat and stared into the remaining foam in his coffee cup processing the words she'd used. His mum had always said that Brendan had secrets and it was better off not knowing but hiding something from the family implied Eileen too.

Soon the quietness was catching and Declan spent the week at home noticing his father's absences, feeling the chill between his parents. Kelly was right. Something was going on that he didn't know about and as his relationship with his dad was nothing short of alienated, he would have to find out another way.

_**April – Brendan**_

They hadn't moved from the car park. Usually by now they'd be tearing open each other's clothes and tripping over themselves just to get onto the bed. It's been almost a year since they stopped meeting at the same Travelodge, almost a year since he threatened Declan's girlfriend to keep her mouth shut, two months since he paid her to dump Declan. She couldn't be close to him and know. He didn't like seeing her cry – she was a sweet young girl – but she knew about Steven and she couldn't be trusted around his son knowing that.

He hadn't told Steven the reason why they moved to a different budget hotel with its longer journey to get there and smaller beds. He'd almost lost it when on their first night they could only offer a twin room and wanted to use his fists to get what he wanted from the lisping man behind the counter. From then on a chill had set in between him and Steven. The wedding was looming. He knew that reason was enough to cause Steven to be cold to him, to screen his calls when he was otherwise busy. He'd hardened, grown up – it wasn't as easy to talk him round.

Things had been so different a year ago. He'd never have described himself as care free but with Steven he'd taken unbelievable risks just even to get a look of him. He'd go a week without hearing from him or seeing him and he'd drive himself crazy from it. His mood swings worsened when he hadn't seen him. He'd done it all: drinking early, closing the club early, he'd even gone round to Steven's flat (Steven blabbed once about the location of a spare key) to root through his fella's things, see if he couldn't find a reason for Ste to get rid of the feckless Adam. Sometimes it had paid off, like the night he hung around outside the hospital – freezing his balls off – and waited until Steven's shift was over. He'd been with a group of girls, other nurses.

"This is my cousin Brendan," he'd offered as a way of introduction, trying to duck away from the way Brendan had him pinned with his gaze. They didn't look like family, or sound like family. And they certainly didn't behave like family.

"Cousins, really?" Brendan teased once the girls had wandered off. They lived off this sort of interaction – the amuse bouche before the feast.

"What did you want me to say?" Ste batted back, crowding in close to him. Brendan knew he'd caught him in a good mood because he wasn't walking on, he looked warm and bit down on his bottom lip. "What are you here for anyway? You know I can't meet up tonight."

"Couldn't wait," Brendan said, drawing Ste away from the main entrance and sliding his hand under Ste's jacket.

"Someone might see here," Ste said, but far from the refusal, he touched Brendan's hand and darted his eyes across. "Come with me."

They'd ended up at a wind-whipped and derelict outer house of the hospital, a building sheltered from the main part of the hospital and locked up and unused past regular working hours Ste claimed. With the full force of his body, Brendan pushed Ste up against the wall, deepening a kiss in the shadows. His mouth felt smooth under Brendan's tongue, his senses spiked by Steven's smattering of jaw stubble from a long shift. Ste reception of him felt more longing and desperate than ever and he found his hands had snaked into the pockets of Brendan's jeans. Pressed so flush against the full heat of his body, Brendan felt Ste harden and his breaths came out in light-headed gasps as Brendan sought out the crook of Ste's neck with his tongue.

Brendan was forever grateful that Ste's cheap and thin clothing did so little at masking his body and Brendan could feel every twitch of muscle and surge of pleasure rippling through him with his hands on him. Ste pressed the side of his face against Brendan's and although he had no need in saying it, it was as if he couldn't help himself. "Suck me off," he said, resting his head back against the wall as soon as Brendan made his intentions clear.

He wouldn't have knelt on the damp gritty tarmac for just anyone, but as he rubbed his palms across Ste's clothed dick, he knew why he'd do it for him. Steven's hand reached out to comb Brendan's hair and his impish grin possessed Brendan's mood, making him want him even more.

"Did I mention you really do it for me in this uniform?" Brendan said, teasing as the soft waistbands tugged down easily in his hands. Brendan played with the thick dick in his hand, surprising him with a well timed squeeze.

"Shu'up," Ste said, a laugh and a groan merging. He pushed down on the crown of Brendan's head.

Brendan extended his tongue for one featherlike perusal of Ste's shaft, keeping his thumb circling the skin of his balls at the exact pressure he knew Steven was crazy for. He conquered the head of Ste's dick with arrogance – like he owned it – and held his lips there, mastering it with his tongue. Inch by inch Brendan took him into his mouth, responding to Ste's noises with a hollowing of his cheeks. He took Steven's hips into his control, letting him thrust with shallow and slow motions until they both reached a perfect harmony. Brendan tightened the pressure in his mouth to an unbearable knot, feeling Ste's fingers clamp around his hair and whine through his nose. Brendan submitted to his urges and let his middle finger skim Steven's rim, just as his tongue ushered the last vibrations through Ste's dick. Ste came, pushing a fist into his mouth and pulling at Brendan's hair, panting everything in a gibberish mess apart from Brendan's name.

Brendan pulled up Steven's clothes and together they buried their mouths in a hard kiss, Brendan still tasting every last bit of Ste.

"Your boy at home, he does that for you, does he? He make you feel like that?" Brendan said, their bodies pressing at the groin. A stab of jealousy and curiosity had got the better of him, but seeing Ste like this made him feel powerful.

In the dark Steven's eyes were as dark as his sin. "No. Just you," he said, pushing for another kiss.

Now the days where he felt he owned Ste were confined to memory; they sat in the car with too much space between them. He wore new clothes, smelt new, looked trim. Someone else had control of him now and Brendan loathed thinking about it.

"We gonna sit in the carpark all night or we going back to basics?" Brendan's hand flowed up Ste's thigh, squeezing him. They'd done everything that there was room for in this car and up against it when getting caught seemed worth risking.

Ste pressed his forehead against the window and he made no attempts to show he enjoyed Brendan's hands on him. Immediately Brendan felt affronted, jerking away and huffing to himself. "What, _now_ you feel guilty?" He hadn't bothered so much when Brendan missed the birth of Brendan's child, his wedding anniversary, Adam's birthday. No, back then it was all fun and fucking and as many rounds as he could take without pain and as many mouthfuls of cum as he could swallow down.

"Don't," Ste said, rubbing his palm over his face. "Just don't. You think all this is easy for me?"

Brendan scoffed. "What he doesn't know don't hurt him."

"I'm getting married in two months!"

"And?"

"I can't do this to him, not when we're married."

"A piece of paper makes all the difference, does it?"

"It might not mean anything to you, but it does to me alright?"

"So that's why you're fucking a married fella is it? Cos you believe in the sanctity of marriage. Grow up."

"That's different. You're gay. You don't love her."

"And you love that prick, do you?"

"Of course. He's done so much for me. We've got a life together."

Brendan couldn't look at him, couldn't stand to see the expression Ste carried and nor did he want Ste to see how he looked. He was a weak, weak man. Maybe they both were. He didn't want to hear the answer to what he meant to Ste if it meant he was nothing at all. What was he really hoping for? That they'd pick up their things and run away together leaving the real world behind? Steven was a prolonged one night stand. That's all he was and could ever be.

"Look sooner or later someone's gonna find out and then what? Blow two marriages apart. It's too risky. I don't want anyone hurt. I mean, you've got kids."

Brendan shook his head, struck by a fist of dry laughter. He'd had enough of these tales of guilt from Steven when it suited. "Don't talk about them like you give a fuck. You're a good liar, boy I'll give you that. You tell me you love that fella, you tell me you don't wanna hurt people. My kids. And yet all the time you're on your back beggin' me for more. You sound real sorry when you're taking it."

It stung him just like Brendan needed it to and Ste unlocked his side of the car door. "I don't feel good about it, about any of it! You don't get it, do you? I don't want to be your part time screw. I don't want to be the guy you shag for an hour in a hotel. I need more than that, Brendan. It's not enough."

Only when Brendan looked up to see him leave the car, did he see Steven's eyes had begun filling with tears. His body thumped with the manic anger that had escalated quickly. He wanted to pulverize Adam so there couldn't be a wedding. Or he wanted to drive them further and further apart. Steven had already booked himself a taxi home and was disappearing out of Brendan's sight that he realised he didn't just want a hold of him or to stop the wedding, he wanted Steven to be his. For good.

_**May – Declan**_

It didn't seem to matter how long he visited home for, Declan never seemed to see much of his father. In a way it suited him because as the years had gone on they had less and less to say to one another but it didn't stop the feeling that something wasn't right at home. Paddy didn't seem to have much say in the matter – shrugging that Brendan wasn't home much – and he didn't like to trouble his mum with Kelly's theory as Eileen was busy with Aoife.

He came home on a weekday during a reading week at university and with the house empty he started thinking more and more about what Kelly had said. He was sure Brendan kept most of his papers at work but he couldn't think how Kelly could have known anything. Had she seen something at the club, drugs or anything else dodgy? Had he been at her hotel arranging something with shady associates?

Declan searched his parents' bedroom, the drawers and the cupboard. He laughed to himself as he rooted around receipts, realising that if his dad really did have something to hide he wouldn't keep it in the house where anyone could find it. Just as he was closing the bottom drawer of the bedside cabinet he noticed a glasses case. Brendan didn't wear glasses. Inside the case sat an old mobile phone. It wasn't one Declan recognised and it wouldn't switch on. There didn't seem to be a charger anywhere. As he began looking for one, he could hear the front door slam and he burned hot all over trying to replace the phone.

As the drawer clicked shut he felt someone else in the room and his throat swallowed up his tongue.

"Looking for something?" Brendan asked, a serious expression on his face. "How's it goin' Deccy?"

"Alright Da, I was just…looking for some sellotape." Declan knew his face had flushed a vivid pink. He knew that whatever was on that phone soon wouldn't be, as soon as he left the room Brendan would be deleting the evidence. That's if there was any – Kelly had driven him to paranoia.

_**June – Ste**_

He'd made himself sick with nerves. Adam had left earlier, kissing him long and hard on the mouth before breaking away with giggling laughter.

"We're actually doing this tomorrow – you're not going to leave me standing there at the altar like a lemon, are you?"

Ste pressed his lips together pretending to think about it. "Err what do you think?"

Adam slung his small overnight bag over his shoulder but paused at the door way. "I don't want to leave you," he said.

"Oh, give over it's only one night!" Ste said, honking with laughter.

"The next time I see you…" Adam said, calling out from the doorstep.

"Yeah yeah…" Ste smiled, holding that grin in until he'd shut the door behind him. Then it all crumbled, his nerve, his resolve, his sanity. He paced the flat which didn't help at all. Everything he looked at was something Adam had bought, it was like a claw of reminders around his throat. The flat had never felt like theirs, only Adam's. And tomorrow Ste would be another of his belongings. Adam wasn't swanky or posh by any means but he had a respectable job, earned decent money. His life was simple, neat, uncomplicated. To most people Ste had lucked out finding Adam. He was everything a Mr Right should be. Saying yes to the proposal was the right thing to do of course, as was letting himself be whisked up into the frenzy of a wedding. People were supposed to settle down and choose the person who was good for them, who offered support and stability. He'd never had that from his home life and he'd be an idiot to screw that all up now.

They weren't supposed to follow the primal thump of their heart and bodies. They were supposed to forget excitement and danger and adventure and immorality of youth. He had to grow up. Even bloody Brendan had said as much. Brendan who he'd leave Adam for in a heartbeat for the promise of something more than an affair.

He crawled into the bath and soaked until his skin wrinkled and grew pink. When he returned to the bedroom he saw his suit hung on the wardrobe, pristine and smart. Tomorrow it would fit perfectly with all eyes on him and everyone else's joy would fill in the emptiness he carried. He sat on the bed, remembering how he'd left things with Brendan and not feeling any closer to closure. They'd exchanged a few texts recently but they hung in this stalemate. The texts from Brendan had come through his phone late at night, they were probably drink fuelled. He'd be different when he was sober.

_**Brendan: You think ur just a fuck then you got no idea**_

_**Ste: wot then? Jst tell me**_

_**Brendan: I want you**_

_**Ste: im sorry about how we left things but mayb it's 4 the best**_

_**Brendan: I know you want me too.**_

_**Ste: i can't**_

_**Brendan: forget him**_

_**Ste: and what?**_

_**Brendan: I'm still at the club, come and find me**_

_**Ste: no. **_

_**Brendan: You want to, I know you do.**_

_**Ste: we can't. 2 much at risk…im doin this for u too…x**_

As he came to reading the end of the text conversation, Ste heard a noise in the flat. He placed the phone down and called out. He hugged the towel tighter round his waist and flicked on the light in the corridor. He shouted out again, feeling a slight shift in the air as if the door had been opened. Ste called out, threatening to call the police and then, from the shadows of the hallway a figure appeared, skulking down the corridor towards him. Ste's heart hammered, faster and faster still when he recognised the man stepping in front of him.

"Steven…" Brendan said, a velvet slur to his tone.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he said, the adrenaline rising the hairs on his neck. His heart beat so solidly he thought it might deafen the moment but he blocked out the sway Brendan had on him, his fear coming out in a burst of anger. Brendan showed Ste the spare key he'd used to let himself in and placed it on the side. Ste's mouth fell open and he remembered giving the game away in a casual conversation and revealing where they kept the spare.

"Making the most of your last night as a free man."

Brendan pushed him up against the wall, hand shielding the back of his neck from the jolt and crashed his mouth against Ste's. Ste's hand, flat against Brendan's chest morphed from pushing him away to curling into the fabric as he melted into the kiss, succumbing to the throb and flow of his mouth. Brendan's tongue was a sliver of smooth heat against his, lapping against his moral struggle and coaxing him into submission. Ste felt drunk on nerves and a flood of adrenaline; screwing up was in his nature. All Brendan had done was give him that excuse, men like Ste weren't meant to have a life like this. Brendan's lips scissored Ste's into opening further and Ste felt warmth spread between his legs with Brendan pushing his weight against the towel. No man had ever made him feel like he could come from a kiss and a bit of friction alone but Brendan did. Just the illicit thrill of seeing him was enough for that.

He didn't dare question the motives or his conscience as he dumped the towel in the hallway and stood completely bare for Brendan's approval. He missed him. Brendan kissed him harder, rubbing his thumb across the tip of Ste's cock. His hands mapped Ste's naked body, eyes glossing over with hunger. Under his warmth, Ste turned and let Brendan press up behind him, searching out every inch of his skin with his fingers. His lips parted, moaning with no control, and held Brendan's hands still on his body. He didn't allow himself to think outside of this moment. This was just one last purge he needed out of his system, then he could fix it, be a good man.

He sucked Brendan's fingertips, kissing them lightly and then felt the brief wet smack as Brendan spanked his backside and made his skin prickle with electricity. He led the way into the bedroom, bracing himself on all fours on a bed that smelt of Adam and his impending marriage. The sound of Brendan's zip crackled into the room.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: As promised we pick up right where we left off! I'm hoping you enjoy this one! Hold on though, there's a lot of drama. More OMG moments than an episode of Hollyoaks maybe? Eek…!_

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_**2016 – June- The Night Before the Wedding – Ste **_

Rasps of breath pounded through the silence. Ste's knuckles gripped white against the head railings of the bed, the one he'd bought cheap in some department store with Adam. Across these sheets they'd talked of the future - very little of the past – they'd shared breakfasts and stories of their day, they'd talked about mortgages and held each other. Ste's eyes drifted to the bedside table where a photo sat framed and staring at him. A sunny day in the park – a nice day. And then Ste had come home, showered and left for a night shift. Except it hadn't been a night shift at work. After a nice day with Adam, he'd driven to an out of town hotel and had his arms pinned above his head, body arched and had been fucked mercilessly by Brendan. Then after that he'd slept within the solid muscles of Brendan's arms, dreaming of a world where it was just the two of them.

Nothing in the bedroom made him think purely of Adam and their secure life, nothing in his life was free from an association with Brendan. Brendan lived inside him, always.

Brendan's hands had a night-air chill to them against the bath water smoothness of Ste's skin. Ste had his knees apart, spine curving like a slide. The metal clink Ste heard meant Brendan stood bare from the waist down, but Ste could see nothing, only feel the disarming pressure of his hands – flat palms – rubbing circles into his arse cheeks, separating him at the seam with a gentle pull of his thumbs. The hot bath water had made him extra sensitive but so relaxed that Brendan could ease in the tips of two fingers with just saliva and patience. Ste groaned into the skin of his own forearm, tearing his teeth into the flesh, feeling Brendan's fingers break the resistance his body began with. Using his free hand, Brendan played lightly over the skin of his cheek, pinching the fleshier parts and teasing the route of his fingers by running them across the tops of Ste's thighs.

There was a sick form of respect he had in not wanting Brendan rooting through _their_ drawers to find lube and Brendan seemed to sense it too, grunting as he knelt onto the bed and slicked Ste with his tongue. He lingered, rolling moans of vowels with wet persistence, and letting the soft hairs of his moustache brush against Ste's skin. Ste felt his insides summersault, body caving to the ticklish exploration of his mouth. One of his hands left the railing of the bed and he let himself masturbate to the speed of Brendan's tongue. Brendan seemed to get off on the display, breathing hotly into him and groaning.

Brendan was on him then, pushing down on his shoulders until his head flattened on the pillow and stretching out Ste's arms until he had been spread open like a depraved angel. The weight on the bed shifted and Ste felt this clamp of fear like he always did around Brendan. It wasn't that he was scared of him – no – he was scared of the way Brendan made him feel. There'd be times where he felt so close to euphoria he'd be happy to die.

A shadow passed over his body and Brendan kissed his shoulder blades and the back of his neck, murmuring his name. Every nerve felt tight in anticipation, so much so it was like he stopped breathing as he listened to Brendan finally strip and cover up with a condom. When Brendan's cock tapped against the crease of him, Ste rocked back, instinctively rubbing up against him like scratching an itch.

"Easy boy," Brendan said through his teeth, squeezing a hand of him.

When that first inch of him entered, Ste grappled with the initial spike of pain, breathing through it. Brendan always took getting used to but despite his passion, he never rushed. Ste's moan gargled as a wave of pleasure hit, stunned with his mouth slack.

"Good, good," Brendan said, angling the force of his hips and thrusting in one swift and deep motion.

Flecks of saliva appeared on the pillow next to Ste as he vocalised his curses, clawing his fingers into the bed sheets. Every cry came in affirmation that Brendan knew exactly how to fuck him, how to set every nerve alight. His thrusts toyed in a limbo between deep and shallow and just as Ste had settled into the ease of that rhythm, he switched – pouring every brute of energy into him. Ste felt breathless with insanity, losing grip on who he was and what he was doing, every sensation blinded him. Brendan's punishing speed and roughness came with a smooth confidence, one of relentless ecstasy, one that left Ste gasping for breath. He reached up, clutching onto the bed railings and squeezed his eyes shut. The weight of Brendan's orgasm pressed deeply into him but with it came the push and pull of a man who wasn't ready to give up yet. He felt Brendan reach over the top of him and pick up the framed photo besides the bed. He hurtled it to the ground, the glass smashing and then returned to finishing what he'd started, fucking Ste until he came, growling darkly into his ear: _You like that?_ The possession in that move should have upset or scared Ste but instead he found himself flipped onto his back, cum leaking across his belly. He lost track of where Brendan had binned the loaded condom because all he could focus on was Brendan's fist jerking him off until he'd reached the blackest part of oblivion.

Brendan kissed him, stickiness everywhere.

He hovered above Ste, pressing their foreheads together. "I love you, Steven," he said, his words strained under a tightness in his throat and the thud of recovering blood.

"What?" Ste said, the words disappearing under a wheeze of breath. Brendan's naked body was pressed up against his. He could feel every brush of hair, every muscle. They shared a heartbeat.

"I love you."

Ste clenched his face trying to make sense of what he was hearing. Brendan's face was damp and lined with earnest. There was something frighteningly fragile about him. Unexpected. Normally after the animalistic sex he curled soft into something docile and sleepy, not this – never this.

Ste reached out and touched his face. Was this desperation talking? Possession? The orgasm talking? He couldn't think from the hum that his body was making only seconds from coming. He'd skydived and the earth had appeared closer than ever, jolting him out of the high.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

He snapped, the docile tiger chased out of the room. "Because I want you to suck my dick. What do you think?!" He sat up.

"You can't just tell me that, not tonight!"

"What do you want me to do, Steven? Crash the wedding?"

Ste saw what this had been about. Not just a reminder of his existence, not just sex. This was Brendan trying to stop him from marrying Adam in the best way he knew how. The only way he knew how. And only now he was starting to be honest.

"Love me?" Ste repeated, voice cracking. Of course he'd felt it too. Years and years ago and never said it knowing the ripples of destruction it could cause.

Brendan forced his lips onto Ste's, heat transferring in the pressure. Their mouths came apart in a moment of softness and Brendan's shaky hand cradled his face. Ste looked down, not wanting to ask the question that would confirm the future but knowing he needed to. "Would you leave your wife to be with me?" He picked at dry skin on his fingers knowing he couldn't bring himself to look at Brendan when he answered.

"Leave my wife?" Brendan sounded incredulous. Ste felt a coldness seep in between them. "Leave my kids? That's…that ain't gonna happen. I can't. I ain't the sorta bloke who -"

Ste scoffed. "Who what, Brendan? Who fucks me whenever he can? Who sends me texts in the early hours begging?! Who tells me he loves me!"

"And what, you'd leave him for me would you?" Brendan said, gesturing at the obliterated photo on the floor.

"Clearly it doesn't matter what I'd do," Ste said, clambering out of bed and finding something to put on. "You've got no intentions of giving me any kind of future! You've made it clear what you think of me. What am I meant to do, eh? Hang around and be your bit on the side forever?!"

"What do you want me to do, Steven? Have a coming out party? Introduce you to my kids as my _boyfriend_?! I have a wife. A family."

The spite in his words stung Ste across the face and he steeled his expression, feeling tears swell behind his eyes. "You don't love me," Ste said shaking his head. "You just want me for sex."

Brendan had followed Ste's example and already had pulled on his jeans. "And you're so perfect, are you? Jumping into bed with me the night before your wedding."

Ste shook off that guilt and accusation. "You know what the difference is right? _He_ actually loves me. He'd do anything for me. You won't even tell the truth for me. You can't."

"I've told you the truth already."

"It's lies."

"What more do you want me to say, Steven? You knew the deal when we started. You knew what you were doing."

"Yeah and here's me, proper idiot, thinking things change, thinking that one day you might've woken up and realised that _I'm _the one you wanted." Ste cringed at his own naivety when he said it.

"You are." He tried clinging onto Ste, drawing his fingers on his chest. Fully dressed now, he forced himself to steel up. "But I ain't leaving them."

"Then we can't be together. That's it. Done." Ste wiped his face realising he'd let a few tears slip down his face. He crumpled, face wrecked by the pain. "You know I'd leave him for you. You know." His breath hitched with emotion and he tried to push out the startled look on Brendan's face as his words came out in something that sounded like a beg. "But you'll never leave her. You're not brave enough."

Brendan grew riled with Ste's accusatory tone and pushed up close to him, threateningly. "You haven't got a clue about me or my life. Everything's so easy for you."

_It isn't,_ Ste thought, knowing he could never have the man he really wanted. "Just go," he said to Brendan, giving into his tears. "I don't ever want to hear from you again. You got that, yeah? Never."

"Loud and clear," Brendan said from the hallways, voice devoid of anything but coldness.

Ste heard the front door slam and after a moment's anguished cry he got to work stripping the bed and showering. Starting afresh. He erased Brendan's number from his phone and cleared away the smashed photograph.

::

_**June – The Day of the Wedding – Brendan**_

It didn't matter to Brendan what the guy looked like, but of course he'd gravitated towards the young and the fair. The one whose bones were a choking reminder. The one who wasn't quite there but good enough. He'd fought pain his whole life in the same two ways and it wasn't going to be an exception. Drink after drink and a shot for the lad in the corner making eyes. The one that with just enough alcohol blur had a sweet enough mouth.

He was proving Steven right, exactly right, that he'd just been a warm fuck and he could be erased and replaced. Just like he was erased and replaced at two thirty when the register would have been signed. Mr and Mr Queer. And if he could do this, sliding fingers into the lad's hair and tongue into his mouth then it proved he never loved Steven at all. It was that easy.

And when it happened, it was easy. Quick.

Empty.

::

_**Ste**_

"Everything okay?" Adam asked, sliding his newly ringed hand onto Ste's shoulder. They'd only been married five hours and already Ste felt suffocated. He'd gone outside for some air, some peace from Adam's family.

Ste glossed on a smile. "Course. Just tired. It's been a mad day. "

Adam slid his arm around Ste's middle, nuzzling his lips playfully against Ste's ear. "You made me the happiest man alive today."

"Me too," Ste said, turning in Adam's arms and kissing him - slow and gentle on the lips. He breathed in deeply through his nose. He'd spent so much of the day holding back on tears that he just willed himself to be happy and not mess things up. Of course Adam made him happy and the day had gone perfectly. No drama, full of love – it's all anyone could hope for. He drew away from the kiss and teased him. "When are the guests gonna bugger off so we can get on with the fun bit?" He sucked in Adam's lip between his teeth, biting gently but letting it free when he saw Adam wasn't totally on board.

He wiped away the frown with a wide smile, raising his eyebrows. "What's gotten into you?"

"Just happy," Ste said, lying.

"Come and have another natter with the in-laws then. Now that you're Mr Wallace-Hay."

He piled the grin back on. Adam's parents hadn't taken to him. He remembered their faces falling when they heard he was a nurse rather than a doctor and that he couldn't contribute any money to the wedding. And since when had he said he was going to take Adam's name?

On the way to see the Wallace's, Amy had tugged at his arm. "Everything alright?" she asked.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

He looked at Amy, eyes widen and face sharp. "Cos you look like you're at a funeral not your own wedding!"

He faked a cheesy grin for her benefit.

"Please tell me this has nothing to do with you-know-what."

"I told you that was done ages ago."

"Good," she said, although her tone suggested she didn't believe him.

He saw Adam beckoning him over to see old Granny Eustace; he picked up the corners of his mouth. "If you'll excuse me…"

_**Brendan**_

It wasn't difficult to find. Steven had never been secretive or subtle – surprising really that he'd kept his mouth shut for so long.

The car guzzled up the petrol as he sat, watching guest after guest leave, his stomach churning. He'd left the little scrote from the gaybar wanting round two and driven here drunk, preying on the hotel reception where Steven was. A married man now.

When he finally saw the happy couple, cheered out of the hotel and kissing each other for approval, Brendan left his car and staggered over. He acted as just a passer-by, a stranger witnessing a happy moment.

"Hey congratulations!" he said, slurring his words as he crossed their path.

Terror filled Ste's eyes and he pushed Adam in the direction of the car. Adam oblivious and almost as drunk as he was, grinned dopily. "Thanks mate!" he said, a brief look of confusion passing his face.

"You make a great couple," Brendan said, stumbling away and feeling Steven's look of warning and misery score into his soul.

_**Declan**_

Brendan had left his laptop open earlier in a hurry to leave and with his mum and Paddy out, Declan was left alone to babysit. With the opportunity to look at his father's secret phone gone, he opened up his emails and headed straight for the Sent folder knowing his dad wouldn't have thought about leaving a trail online – he was rubbish at those things.

Through the work emails and work contacts, he saw a bunch of emails sent in quick succession to the same contact – named with just a mysterious _S_. There hadn't been any emails sent for over about ten months but he opened one.

_Date: 3/9/15_

_To: S _

_Subject: (none)_

_You know I'm the boss. It's what you like, you said so yourself last night…_

Declan swallowed down the clench of sickness he felt and clicked the next one from the same day.

_Keep talking like that and I'm going to have to leave work early. What time do you get off? I could come pick you up and we could continue what we started last night. I wasn't done with you yet._

It was a compulsion now. Maybe it was just nothing, just flirting with a random stockist woman he'd met.

_You forget I know what drives you crazy. Maybe your boyfriend hasn't noticed those teeth marks yet but I can go a bit harder next time. I know you like it hard. Harder and harder you said_.

Declan gulped down the bile he felt realising his dad was cheating on his mum. If he was going to confront him he needed evidence. He needed the upper hand. He could already imagine how devastated his mum would feel and he found himself tearing up at the thought of it. Maybe he could just threaten his dad; he couldn't face his mum finding out. He tried to be optimistic, that his dad would say it was already over and had been all those months ago. He didn't want his dad ditching the family for some tart. He clicked another email, one final one. It was all he could bear.

_We'll have to see about that. But first I'm gonna lick you wide open and then suck that thick little cock of yours until you can't breathe._

Declan stumbled over the words, checking that he'd read them right and feeling his stomach heave. A guy? His dad was sleeping with a man.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Sorry for the time taken to update. I really appreciate all your lovely comments. There's a lot more drama to come!_

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_**2017 – January – Declan**_

His jaw clenched and he scrubbed furiously at the plates in the sink. If they'd been cleaned last night then there wouldn't be this problem. Brendan saddled up beside him, grey under the eyes from the New Year's Eve hangover. Eileen was still in bed, Paddy too, and Brendan had settled Aoife in front of the TV.

They'd barely spoken recently, not since Declan had confronted him over the emails months and months ago. He'd denied it of course. He'd hinted about knowing something the day after the email discovery but when they were finally alone in the house last summer, Declan had it out with him.

"Swear it then, swear on mam's life you don't know what I'm talking about!" Declan had said, knowing that he had forwarded the emails onto himself so that he could use them as evidence if he needed to.

"I already told ya. I don't know what you're on about!"

Shaking, Declan had shown him the phone, the explicit words burning the air between them. He wasn't a kid anymore, his dad couldn't protect him from the truth. He deserved to know, they all did. He watched on as his father's shock dispersed and he shielded with coldness. "S'not me. Must have been a hacker."

Declan scoffed. They both knew his knowledge of computers and the internet were minimal but this was a new low, even for him. "Just give me the truth, dad! For once!"

He saw Brendan press his hands over his face and stutter around in the small square he stood in trying to avoid Declan's gaze and accusations. Declan had heard every denial from him, but he looked beaten down from it, like he couldn't keep up the lie any longer.

"So you've been emailing a bloke?"

An endless pause flooded between them. "Yes. One."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You've…_been_…with him?"

He watched Brendan shudder and shrink away to the chair, bracing himself against the release of his secrets. "Yeah…yeah." He bounced on his heels for a fraction and then stilled, like he had shut down.

Declan didn't want to know specifics. The emails alone had poisoned his mind, but he needed to know what this meant for the family. He thought back over his entire life wondering how much was tainted. Had their whole family life been a complete lie?

"How could you do that to mam? To all of us?" His voice cracked.

"I don't know, okay? I don't know. It's just…I dunno it's…"

"You're supposed't love us, da!"

"I _do_ love you. Both you boys, Aoife and your mam."

"You're full of crap." Declan had swallowed, knowing the next question was the one question he'd had all along, just unsure if he should ask it. "So I guess this means you're gay then."

Brendan reacted as if he'd been slapped across the face, eyes white and wide, mouth opening to a cavern. His face crumpled and it was almost a laugh that spat out of him. "No! No, of course I'm not. How could you even-?!"

"The emails are a pretty big sign!"

"The emails…" Brendan said, partly brushing off the claim that they were a big deal with a small scoff. "They're nothing. They were ages ago."

"So that's all it was, a one off?"

Brendan's head flopped forward. "Course."

"Liar."

"I told you Deccy, it was nothing. Nothing."

Declan withdrew into sullenness, shaking his head. He'd always felt distant to Brendan but now it was as if any lingering familial affection had been lobotomised. Brendan was nothing more than a stranger now. And a lying, cheating scumbag.

"If it really was nothing, like you said, then you can own up to it to mam, can't ya?"

Declan stared at his father – his own form of confrontation.

"I won't do that to her. Not for nothing. Not for this. I ain't hurting her." Brendan looked jittery, panicked, speaking quickly and his hair pulled from the scalp with his hands.

"Shoulda thought of that," Declan said, stabbing back. "I'm tellin' her. If you don't, I am."

And that's where he'd left the threat, hanging in the air – sharp as steel. Of course, like the coward Declan had realised he was, his father made excuses every time. It was an occasion or a birthday, the death of Eileen's mother. They went on and on. At each home visit from university Declan would sicken with the knowledge, tying himself up in knots knowing he should tell Eileen but too scared of ripping his family apart. Although he hated to admit it, in some ways he was just as cowardly as his father.

Back at the kitchen sink on New Year's Day, he felt the anger claw at him. Brendan claimed he couldn't tell Eileen at Christmas – he'd do it in the New Year.

"January the first," Declan said to the air rather than to Brendan as he stood beside him helping with the plates.

"So it is," Brendan replied, not making eye contact – never making eye contact since it all came out.

"Are you gonna do it today?" Declan said, already knowing the answer.

"When are you gonna understand that I made a mistake. It ain't gonna happen again!" Brendan's words were hushed for the house's benefit but it came from his clenched teeth. "After Aoife's birthday I swear…"

"Whatever da," Declan said, dropping the plates into the loaded sink and letting the wash slosh. "I don't wanna talk to you. I can't be around you. You make me sick."

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_**February – Eileen**_

For the first time in many years Eileen was starting to feel wanted. Nothing had happened of course, that would be highly inappropriate and unprofessional although she had toyed with asking him to become her personal trainer. She had even started putting on make-up and buying new sportswear purely for his yoga lessons at the gym. Michael had exactly everything she liked in a man: good looks, intense eyes and a fit body. He wasn't brooding like Brendan but then that was a good thing. Their family and values meant that they'd committed to a lifetime together but they lived such separate lives these days she didn't even feel married.

She was snapped out of her thoughts as Michael placed a hand on the small of her back. She was red faced and sweaty and this would normally only be a gesture for intimate lovers but being surrounded by twenty other women in Lycra on yoga mats took away from the moment.

"Good job, Eileen," Michael said, making her posture slacken when she saw his wide smile. He wouldn't dream of asking her out for a coffee like she fantasised about because he'd seen all her lumps and bumps and her arse in the air. She wasn't getting special treatment anyway; she was just another of his clients.

It seemed she wasn't alone in fancying him either. Amy squeaked over him as they shared a guilty slice of cake afterwards.

"He's gorgeous!" Amy said, clasping her hands around her cup of tea. Black, no sugar.

Eileen groaned with her mouth full of cake. "You're telling me! God I'd sell my soul for a piece of him!"

Amy laughed. "Don't let Brendan hear you say that!"

Eileen's eyes rolled. She had never got into it with Amy - she didn't like admitting there were any cracks in their marriage - but after all this time and being friends for so long, she caved. "He'd never even notice," Eileen said.

"Oh no, is there something wrong?" Amy's voice took on a whiney quality when she was concerned and Eileen didn't have the patience for it. She moved her hand away from Amy's so she couldn't patronise her with a sideways glance.

"It's nothing," she said, waving her hand away as if the moment had passed.

Amy sighed and then inhaled breath like she had something else to say. "You remember my friend Ste? The one who got married last year?" She waited for Eileen to nod and then continued, shaking her head. "I'm worried about him."

"Not still seeing that other fella is he?" Eileen asked leaning forward in her chair. She'd gone off the lad as soon as Amy had mentioned that before.

Amy shook her head. "No thank god. I just don't think he's very happy. He says he's fine but he never seems it, you know? Even at the wedding it was like he was just somewhere else."

Eileen shrugged. It was hardly surprising. "I've never really agreed in gay marriage for that very reason," she said, scoffing. "Marriage is between a man and a woman. That's what The Bible says."

Amy bristled, sitting back into her seat. "The Bible says a lot of things." She paused, ready to defend her friend's honour. "And anyway Ste wasn't the one chasing a married man – it was the other way around. If you ask me, he's done a lot worse than Ste."

Eileen wasn't going to argue with that. She had more important things on her mind – like her own marriage and the fact she hadn't had sex in over six months. She'd dismissed the idea that he'd been seeing another woman, mainly because she couldn't imagine anyone else putting up with him like she did! Her concerns were far more pressing than a sordid gay sex tale.

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_**March – Brendan **_

Brendan's head banged with an ache that had been lasting hours. Perhaps it was a hangover, he wasn't sure – they all seemed to blur into one long hangover these days. He'd been up and awake all night next to Eileen, his whole body reeling from sex. Guilt-ridden, ugly and uncomfortable sex. She hated the smell of his alcohol breath and the speed and rhythm but like him, she was proving a point. They were trying to be normal. He still loved her enough to try. Didn't love her enough to stop screwing around outside of their marriage.

He saw Danny arrive in the club's car park, with two bulky men, on the CCTV monitors. He'd been sat with a pair of cufflinks pressed into the palm of his hand. BB. Brendan Brady. The silver looking a little scuffed at the edges. He only wore them at work but they were cheaply made. Sometime last year he'd thrown them into the drawer, swearing to never look at them again. Finding them there had twisted up his insides.

He remembered the moment they were handed over so vividly that it made his chest ache.

"What's this?" he'd asked, propping up on one elbow in bed.

"Birthday present, innit?" Ste had grinned, the bed sheet slipping below his navel and exposing a neat nest of pubic hair.

At the time it had felt unusual to receive a gift so intimate at such an early time in their affair, but at the same time it felt right.

"Thought you'd already given me my present?" Brendan winked.

"This is something to keep though." Ste had pushed it into his hands, biting his lip as he awaited the reaction. At his most beautiful.

Brendan missed him like oxygen. Starved of him. Bereft. Could he really spend another year - ten years? – without him? The thought of that choked him with fear. Steven would have given up everything for him and he almost laughed in his face. Now that Declan knew, maybe the hardest part – letting his family down – had already been taken out of his hands. Declan hated him and would go on hating him as long as he kept it from Eileen. How long could he keep it up? He'd already lost Steven and his life was an empty shell without him. Declan too, was he going to lose him? The rest of them if he couldn't keep it a secret any longer.

The cufflinks made a pink impression on his palm and he placed them in his pocket. Tonight. He'd tell her tonight. Somehow he would. He had to.

Danny's arrival interrupted his thoughts and he could hear the end of a deal being made between the men. He tensed, knowing the deal was far worse than anything he wanted in his club. He closed the drawer of his desk and walked to the door of the office, pressing his ear against it. He heard Danny's voice lower into a snarl although he couldn't make out the words. Moments later he heard someone throw punches and Danny's voice shouting. He pulled open the door to find Danny bloodied and sprinting after the other guys. Acting on his gut, Brendan followed.

"They've gone off with the cash. Hundreds of thousands!" Danny said as they rushed to his car. "Get in. We've gotta get these bastards!"

Blindsided by Danny's panic, Brendan jumped into the passenger seat, his heart pulsing with adrenaline as he clicked in his seat belt. He'd always been a fighter when he needed to be and if Danny wanted him to seek revenge for double crossing then he would. Danny sped to catch up with the thieves, barely explaining to Brendan what had gone on. He managed to catch the drift: a greedy drug deal gone wrong.

"No one screws around with me. No one!"

On the motorway, horns sounded as Danny over took cars trucks, blindly focused on hunting down the guys in front. He was level with them, hounding them from behind, tires skidding in the rain as he tried running them off the road.

"Take it down a level, Danny boy," Brendan said, feeling unnerved by the look on Danny's face and the way his determination didn't relent.

The windscreen wipers whipped back and forth. The car lurched from one side of the road to the other. When it happened, it seemed to come out of nowhere, a barrier and another car caught up in the cross fire. Danny had no room to swerve and the impact came with a loud crush of blood and bones. Brendan's world went black.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: Sorry again for the wait. This is a short yet dramatic update! Really hope you like it.**_

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_**:**_

_**Ste**_

"I thought you'd at least be happy for me," Adam said on the phone as Ste walked to work. A sharp chill made him walk faster but he knew, deep down, he was hurrying to get Adam off the phone.

"I am happy for you! I said that, didn't I?" he said, it coming out more defensively than he meant it to. Now he sounded the exact opposite. He sounded pissed off and honestly he was but things were fraught enough with Adam, he didn't need another reason to make things worse.

He'd gone over and over it in his mind when Adam announced he was going for the interview. Head of Department Operations (whatever that meant). Better pay, better perks. And to top it all off he'd be working in a big swanky office right in the heart of London.

"It's my dream, Ste!" he'd said at the time, only revealing the full details of the job once Ste was blissed out from sex. Manipulative to say the least. "Imagine it: you and me in a plush apartment in London, you working at St Thomas's. Go on, you'd love it!"

Ste had never had dreams. Not ones that involved London or apartments anyway. When he was a kid he'd dreamt of peaceful Christmases and a bike for his birthday and then as he grew it had been arms he'd wanted, wrapped around him. Love. He'd had dreams of other things too, later in life, but ones which weren't going to come true and pained him to think of.

Back on his walk he could hear how tense Adam was, how his excitement had been blocked by Ste's unenthused selfishness. "This is a huge deal for me Ste." Us, Ste thought, we're married now – this affects both of us - you should be thinking about _us_. "It's everything I've ever wanted."

Ste found himself slumping into bitterness, wanting to kick his heels like a child. He didn't want to move and start life again in a new city not when he didn't know anyone. He had a life here, a job, he had Amy and Leah, and he had…

As his thoughts trailed off into a forbidden territory Ste saw an ambulance pull up, blue lights and sirens raging. It wasn't an unusual sight by any means but Ste got caught up in the panic of the moment.

"Sorry Adam, we'll talk about this later, yeah? I've gotta go to work an emergency's just come in." He knew from the disgruntled reply that they'd have to sort this out later or he'd spent another night on the couch feeling unwelcome in his own marital bed.

The hive of noise around the unloading ambulance always made the adrenaline in Ste's system bubble. When he got closer he saw that a second one had arrived, this time the panic subdued and a knot of dread filled Ste. One of the patients was dead already. He could hear a whole list of jargon being reeled off as he approached and an unconscious body was stretchered onto a trolley. Through the blood and bruising Ste could just make out the man's face.

Ste's heart stopped. Brendan.

However unprofessional, Ste rushed over, all those trodden down feelings resurfacing. He could barely breathe. "Is he okay?!" he said, levelling up with the paramedics.

They were furious at his intrusion. "Sir, back away!"

"I'm a nurse and…a friend!" Ste saw them blink at him, doubtful. Ste fished around for his ID badge. "His name's Brendan Brady, he's 37. Is he going to be alright?!"

The less stern paramedic repositioned Brendan's oxygen mask. "We're taking him straight through to A&E."

"I'm stationed on A&E, I can help, I can-" Ste's voice cracked and he felt tears blur his vision.

"Sir," she placed up her hand, holding him back. "If you want to be useful, perhaps you can give us some space. We'll let you know the situation as soon as we can."

With that Ste was left stood outside the entrance to the hospital, wrecked with sobs as he saw Brendan's body being rushed through the automatic doors.

_**::**_

_**Eileen**_

When Eileen received the call she stood peering at the notice board in the gym wondering what other classes she could take. She'd always taken a pride in her appearance but as time rolled on it felt more necessary than ever to work hard for a better shape. Three kids had taken their toll and although Brendan would never say it, she sometimes felt frumpy compared to these skinny young things hanging around. It's not like Brendan ever leered over women, flirted yes but that was all part of his territory, but as she spent more time at the gym with her schoolgirl crush on Michael growing she just wanted to be young and wanted again. She wasn't going to embarrass herself by asking out Michael for a drink – she didn't do things like that – but she needed to feel good about herself again.

Her mobile rang and the 'Unknown Number' threw her. Then she noticed a string of missed calls from when she was in her yoga class. Sometimes Aoife's nursery number came up as that and just for a moment Eileen's throat constricted imagining something awful had happened. It was a relief when it wasn't one of the familiar nursery-nurses' voices on the other end.

"Hello, is this Mrs Brady?"

Eileen's eyes rolled. Another cold call, she thought, like she needed poxy double glazing or a pay-day loan. "Hi, who is this?" She felt her stance morph into something automatically defensive.

"This is Dr Howard from City Hospital."

She felt a tightness burn in her chest.

"We're calling you to inform you that your husband Brendan has been admitted. He's been involved in a serious car crash."

Eileen fell back against the wall, a gasp ripping through her. "Is he alright?!"

"The driver of the vehicle unfortunately did not make it but we have to tell you Mrs Brady that your husband's condition is critical. It would be useful if you could get to the hospital as soon as possible for us to speak with you."

Eileen couldn't speak. She fumbled her way to the car park and wiping her face somehow mustered enough sense to drive.

_**::**_

_**Ste**_

Ste had paced the corridor a thousand times. He'd hastily changed into his uniform but he had no idea now where Brendan had been taken. He heard whispers of X-Ray or surgery and each thought knotted his stomach. He couldn't work, not when he was thinking the worst. With every trolley wheeled past he expected to see Brendan, to see his thick moustache lifting in some dry comment, his accent like a brush with velvet.

Sitting now on a hard-backed chair in a waiting corridor he allowed himself to acknowledge the real reasons his marriage was crumbling. He didn't want to go to London because he couldn't stand to be apart from Brendan. Even if they hadn't seen each other in months and the very idea of staying for him was futile, Ste clung onto that hope of a future with a painful determination.

He'd already pestered various wards trying to find out what was going on and he was ready to start pleas again at reception when he was approached by a doctor.

"Steven Hay?"

"Yes," Ste said, standing immediately and feeling a rush of blood with his full name being used like Brendan would.

"You're a close friend of Mr Brady's, I understand?" There was a tone of aggravation in his voice like he'd heard of Ste terrorising staff for information.

Ste gulped and nodded, wringing his hands together.

"Okay," the doctor indicated to sit. "We've moved Mr Brady – Brendan – to intensive care. He's still unconscious and it looks like he took a nasty bash to the head but we think that's superficial and he should wake up when the swelling goes down with no problems. He has a deep cut on his upper body which we've stitched but he lost a lot of blood. He's got a lot of bruising and fractures but those will heal in time."

Ste cried fresh tears at every new description of the injuries. "He's gonna be okay though, right?"

"He had a lucky escape. We can't say for sure, but yes we think so."

Ste wiped his face with the back of his hand, sniffing. "Can I see him?"

Dr Howard, as the name badge said, looked uneasy for a moment. "Normally we allow just immediate family."

"Please," Ste said, eyes closed. His voice wobbled, mouth quivering. "I'm his –" he could barely get the words out. "He means everything to me. Please."

"Until his wife arrives…and as you're hospital staff I guess I can make the exception."

"Thank you! Thank you so much," Ste said, breathless racing ahead to the intensive care unit, Dr Howard trailing behind.

Ste was no stranger to medical equipment and seeing people gravely ill but it felt so much worse when it was someone familiar. Someone loved. The curtains were drawn closed around the bed and he felt his heart beat quicken as they were opened by one of the nurses. He heard the beeping first, the rhythmic pace of the heart monitor by the side of the bed. Then he saw the drugs and liquid and blood all travelling in tubes down to the body in the bed.

Brendan's face was mostly obscured by the oxygen mask and stitching, but it was his lack of colour, the gaunt hollowness of his cheeks made him almost unrecognisable. Ste's throat thickened with emotion as he took in the sight, shaken with the pain of seeing him like this. The nurse by his bed excused herself to the station just metres away and Ste hovered over the side of the bed. He ran his hand along Brendan's arm, trying to place his hand over Brendan's that was bulked down with cannulas and a pulse monitor on his finger.

"It's me," Ste said softly, trying to slip his fingers around Brendan's. "I'm always telling people they should talk to patients when they're unconscious but here I am and I don't know what to say. I know. Me, not knowing what to say! You'd be well happy for me to shut up most of the time." Ste's laugh came out hoarse and empty. "What are you doing in here, eh? I thought you'd be with Bupa or sommit, not slumming it with us. Were you just tryin'a get some of my bedside manner or sommit? Whatever you ask for I ain't giving you a bed bath alright? Washing your back in the shower is one thing but this…"

His voice quietened. It was a small ward, just four beds and four nurses but he didn't want the gossip to spread. "Bren you scared the shit outta me. I couldn't lose you. Not ever." He used his other hand, tenderly brushing the hair at Brendan's temple. "I know things that happened last year weren't good but…I love you. I really love you. Nothing's changed. It's never going away that feeling. Right inside of me. And if you make me wait a hundred years for you, I will."

::

_**Eileen**_

Dr Howard explained everything. The procedures, the risks, the aftercare and she sobbed her way through the entire thing, fixated on the need to see him.

He handed her a bag of his things, clothes and the items on his possession and said he would just check whether the nurses were finished medicating and checking on her husband. When he was gone, Eileen found herself smothered in Brendan's scent as she rifled through his things, bloodied as they were. She wept. As she handled his suit jacket something fell out the pocket. Cufflinks. B and another B. She'd never seen him wear them and they weren't something she'd ever buy him. Strange.

Dr Howard beckoned her through the corridor. She was catching up with him, about to ask if he was sure these were all Brendan's possessions when something caught her eye. The intensive care unit had a window and she glanced through absentmindedly. She spotted a familiar face that she took a moment to put a name to. Until, very slowly, as she watched him lean down, placing his lips to that of a patient's in a goodbye, she realised that the man she recognised was Amy's friend Ste.

And the man he kissed on the mouth was her husband.


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Sorry this is another short one but I promise the next will be longer. Also, don't kill me. This is the fallout so expect things you might not want!**_

_**::**_

_**:**_

_**Eileen**_

There were several things Eileen could have done – should have done – after seeing a male nurse kiss her husband full on the mouth. There were several things she wanted to do. She wanted to scream or run or cry or smack the boy hard across the face. Because with the kiss came the startling revelations and conclusions that came with it. He wasn't just any nurse either, he was a friend of Amy's – a friend of Dorothy's too alright. He was no longer the two-dimensional gay tart in Amy's tales of adultery, he was the twisted, sneaky home-wrecking predatory bastard who'd trapped her husband into his sordid little games. Brendan was the married man. Years this had gone on. Years.

What Eileen wanted to do was sob her way home, tear every last thing out of the house that belonged to her lying, cheating scumbag poof of a husband. That would mean the house too. She'd have to pack up _her_ things – what _was _hers? – and stay with her mam. Kids too. They'd be psychologically damaged, bullied at school, turn to drugs probably – the lot. She'd never be able to look her friends and family in the face again – she'd be laughed at. She'd be the woman who turned her husband gay. And some smart arse was bound to say they knew all along, weren't they? Hadn't she seen it? They'd bring up sex and – god why hadn't she realised – the lack of drive, the fact he wanted anal? She felt so stupid. Mortified. Used. Pathetic.

Then she wanted to find _him_. The one who coerced him. The one who'd do all those grimy things with him. She wanted him to feel like she felt. She wanted him to look her in the eye and admit to destroying her family, for damaging the man she loved.

What Eileen did was different. Difficult. Restrained. He was still her husband, her broken, injured husband. She had obligations, vows, duties even if he'd pissed all over his. She had her family to think of. Herself. She was a mother first, a wife second. She wasn't going to tear their family apart. No, if he wanted to be gay with his little queer boyfriend, then he could bear the brunt of the fallout, the suffering – not her.

So Eileen Brady sat by the hospital bed, listening to the machines' beeping, hands fixed firmly to her side. When nurses and doctors saw her cry they believed it to be because of her husband's injuries and they offered her words of comfort and tea in plastic cups.

"He'll be okay," they said, "It looks like he'll make a full recovery."

He'll still be gay, Eileen thought. And no matter how much she wanted it to be otherwise, how much she prayed to God for a fix, he'd still be gay when he work up.

_**:**_

_**Paddy**_

He'd been a little reluctant to visit the hospital for the second day running. He had considered taking his school books or at least The Catcher in the Rye, which he was half-way through, but Eileen said it wasn't very sociable of him to bury his head in a book.

"Ma he isn't even awake yet," Paddy said, rolling his eyes as he slunk out of the house. "How's he gonna know I'm reading a book?"

"I'll know," Eileen said, buckling Aoife in on the backseats. "And Declan's coming later when he finishes lessons."

"Lectures, ma. They're called lectures."

She glared at him, slamming the car door shut. "Will you stop correcting me, Padraig? It's all you seem to do lately!"

Paddy flipped his dark hair from his face and sat beside her on the passenger seat.

"I was only saying," he said, mumbling into his sleeves as he rested his elbow on the window ledge.

Eileen shuddered beside him with a tearful sigh. "And don't you think I've got bigger things to worry about?"

Paddy was forced into silence. He didn't really believe the notion that unconscious patients could actually hear what their visitors were saying. Brendan's finger had begun twitching and the doctors said the swelling on his brain was shrinking rapidly. All good signs. They said it would be days, maximum, until he'd wake up. Then everything would go back to normal.

Well, as normal as living in the Brady house could be. He was pretty sure his mum and dad had stopped loving each other a long time ago.

:

_**Declan**_

"Shit…fuck. That's a real fucked up situation."

"Yeah, you could say." Declan threw the last of his clothes into an overnight bag. He didn't normally reveal his whole family story to strangers, but this was different. Meina, the girl hanging around the doorway of his room was the girl he was hoping to date. If she was willing to take him on, he wasn't about to keep his father's secrets from her.

"So what are you going to do?"

He slumped onto the bed. "I can't do it to her, can I? I can't go to the hospital and sit and tell her Da's gay. Not when I don't even know what state he's gonna be in." He ran his hands across of his face and it was selfish to say it, to feel it but he did anyway. "In a way I sorta hoped this might make him…"

"What – _not_ gay?"

"No, not that. Just…I dunno, make him realise how important life is, I guess. You know?"

Meina chewed on her lip and joined him on the bed. She smelt of perfume, her black hair brushing up against his shoulder. She placed her hand on his knee. "Have you thought about what if he wakes up and realises he wants to be with that guy?"

Declan's head dropped forward. He hadn't really thought of that outcome. "Then at least Ma's gonna get the truth."

:

_**Brendan**_

His body ached like he'd been pulled and stretched in medieval fashion, crushed in a car compactor. He felt a rough material under all his limbs, a low dull ache at the centre of his spine. The sounds he heard were like being underwater, just out of reach and swirling. He couldn't focus on them, they were making him feel nauseous and foggy so he retreated back, deep into the recesses of memory. He found comfort there, happiness, pleasure.

_Steven's birthday. He'd upgraded their rendezvous. Four stars, a suite. Room service. Breakfast in bed. Crumbs in uncomfortable places, his orange flavoured mouth. A towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets shaken like a dog from his hair. The towel coming loose as he clambered over the bed and perched himself across Brendan's lap. Brendan untied it – what sane man wouldn't. He was hard, and pink from the shower. The cheekiest grin slapped onto his face. __**Hiya**__ he said like butter wouldn't melt, and wrapped his arms around Brendan's shoulders, cock rubbing up against his belly, legs spread. __**Wish we could stay here f'ever, don't you? **__He rubbed his nose against Brendan's and licked the tips of his moustache. Their lips touched twice, maybe three times, not kissing just enjoying that subtle connection. __**You want me to turn round? **__His tongue curled up in his mouth. It was tongue he wanted, tongue everywhere. __**In a minute.**__ Brendan said after a growl, running his nails through Ste's scalp and then down his spine. Every stretch of skin made him feel so alive. Ste pressed his hips down and circled, bringing their cocks together. He laughed. Low and dirty. And sighed. __**Nice innit?**__ Brendan shook his head in derision. __**That ain't 'nice'. Nice is picnics and daisy chains. You don't want nice. **__Ste slipped his hand between them, rubbing his fingertips over Brendan's shaft. __**Oh yeah. Then what do I want, eh?**__ Brendan pressed his finger between Ste's arse cheeks and watched his mouth pop open. __**Me.**_

Brendan tried curling back into it, the sensations. What was it? Memory or fantasy? He wanted more of it. Not just the physical, there was a glow filling his head. A warmth. A longing.

But a blinding consciousness was taking over, flooding his system. Noises grew louder, voices. Words started making sense. He could feel where he was now fully. He started feeling pains and aches. He was flat on his back and the thrum of noise around him was growing louder. He could feel thoughts rising to the surface, feeling like he wanted to answer their questions and join in. He wanted a drink of water. And more than that, he wanted something else.

Movement returned and from a curl of a fist, he was gradually able to open his eyelids.

:

_**Ste**_

"You know your friend is awake. He's been moved to HDU," said Pam as she passed Ste in the canteen, carrying her dinner tray.

"Awake?" Ste said, trying to reign in the feelings of relief he was struck with.

Pam nodded. "A few hours ago."

He still had a few minutes left of his break, so he left his half-eaten lunch and rushed to the high dependency unit, feeling guilt, relief and an ache at every step. With Eileen around he hadn't dared allow himself anywhere near the ward before and had had to rely on second hand gossip to keep up to date with his progress. He was barely sleeping from worry. Not to mention Adam was piling on the pressure at home over the move and he hadn't given him an answer yet. When he'd first seen the state of Brendan he'd known immediately that he wanted to be with _him_ and not Adam but as reality set it, the thought of that seemed further from reach than ever.

As he turned the corridor into the special care units he could see Brendan and his family through the large window. They were all gathered around the bed, his wife, three kids. He looked drained, gaunt, but managing to lift a smile at his family's presence. Ste noticed immediately Brendan's fingers locked tightly around his wife's, all of them chatting together. The perfect family. He could barely breathe watching them. He'd never felt so desperately alone.

Ste looked onto the scene, a knot in his throat, a hot mist in his eyes. It'd been a long day, a long week. He pressed a hand up and over his forehead as if he could rub away those futile thoughts. He needed to, if he was ever going to survive this. Miracles could happen, sure, on the telly. Brendan could've banged his head and woken up straight. Stranger things had happened. But the chances of him deciding to lead an out and open life, to leave behind the 2.4 family? Next to zero.

Being with Brendan had brought him elation, ecstasy and a world of confusion and pain. Rarely had it brought him the things future needed: stability, loyalty, security. Adam, he…he wasn't Brendan but he was a good man. Kind. Nice. After all, they were married. They came in a pair. He wasn't a young, hedonistic, selfish guy anymore. He'd made too many bad choices for too long. What he loved and lusted after in Brendan wasn't what he needed. And looking at him now, he wasn't what Brendan needed either. Brendan probably hadn't even given him a second thought.


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: Forgive me for the slower updates lately. Thanks for all your support. Enjoy!**_

_**::**_

_**:**_

* * *

_**Three months after the accident **_

_**June – Brendan**_

When the doctors broke the news of Danny's death, a few days after he'd regained consciousness, Brendan didn't expect to feel the shift of relief he did. As for work, he had enough money to buy the club outright, if that's what he wanted. What he hadn't banked on was recurring nightmares of the accident, visions of a gory and battered Danny at his bedside laying all the blame on him.

If he hadn't woken in cold sweats, screaming into the night, he was the sort of man who'd go years without saying anything, locking up his fears. But in hospital, under constant observation, a screaming man was noticed. He was referred to see a therapist – a quack as he described to his wife and later his sister when they visited – to work through his PTSD.

"I don't want any of your wacko treatments," Brendan had said when his doctor revealed the decision. He was still using crutches and a wheelchair to get around and felt the loss of control more than ever. "And no drugs."

"We don't think that'll be necessary," the doctor had said, raising his eyebrows. "We've got you down for eight sessions of CBT, that's Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, and we'll see how you're doing after that. First one is this Friday." He looked at Brendan's legs, "We'll wheel you down to that department." He gave a little smirk.

"Something funny doc?" Brendan said, gripping the man's wrist. These jokes about not being the fastest man in the race were starting to wear thin.

For the rest of his family, life had almost gone back to normal. Work, school, university, nursery. Now that he was up and about, conscious and working on his physiotherapy there wasn't a need for them to be at his bedside. He didn't want to be mothered anyway, he just wanted to get out of there. Not that he'd been, but he couldn't imagine prison being worse than this. Confinement, rules, lights-out, endless days, food that looked and tasted like puss. He couldn't even take a shit without someone checking up on him. Still, at least he'd progressed from catheters and bed pans. Those were mortifying days.

He couldn't struggle far in the crutches and there weren't many sights to visit in the hospital, besides a small roof café that was too windy even in June. He settled for a wheelchair, one with a front wheel that kept jamming. Of course, the real purpose of these missions was not to exercise his muscles, but to see if he could track down Steven. He couldn't just wander in and out of wards, these things were policed heavier than armed guards. But he kept looking, struggling on with a three-wheel drive.

Lying in that hospital bed had given him too much time to think, too long to linger over the past. Mistakes he'd made, things he'd said and done. He wasn't even sure Steven would want to see him again. Ste was married now and their last encounter had been nearly a year ago and not one he could be proud of.

Inevitably, things slipped into his CBT sessions that he hadn't wanted to divulge. He knew they had strict confidentially clauses but that didn't make it easy to open up – that wasn't him, that had never been him.

"Have you taken any medication for your mood or anxieties before, Mr Brady?" she'd asked during his second visit.

"You're the psychologist," he said, gesturing to the wad of notes she held on her lap, "Can't you, I don't know, read my mind?"

Her face creased into a mind and she put down the folder of notes, folding her hands into her lap.

"I'm afraid that's a psychic's role, not a psychologist. And I only know a few ghost hunters so I'm not sure that'll get you very far."

Brendan warmed a little to her and her sense of humour. But still he fidgeted in the chair, playing with his hands and his clothes, the hospital tag on his wrist.

"Leaving aside your accident with Danny, is there or was there anything else on your mind? Is something bothering you, creating persistent thoughts?"

Brendan scoffed a little. The therapist's face didn't change, stayed open and imploring.

"Everyone's bothered by something at some point."

"That's true," she said, "But usually minor worries only create short term stressors for us, they don't seem to cause the reaction you're having."

"They'll pass."

"Unfortunately reactions like yours don't just disappear overnight and if and when they do fade, we don't want them to resurface."

"So what you're telling me is that if I don't cry on your shoulder then I'll end up in some nuthouse?"

"Not quite that, no." She paused, chewing on her pen. "Okay. Can you tell me what you were thinking about the day of the accident?"

Brendan puffed out his cheeks, drumming his hands. "Sure, yeah, I was thinking about getting a pedicure. Something fancy." His face hardened in contempt of her methods, but she wasn't budging and her return stare didn't let up. "I was thinking about telling my wife that I was going to leave her."

"Ah."

"'_Ah!'_ – what, did I pass a test or something?!"

"Sorry Brendan, go on."

"That's all I got."

"So, you were planning on telling your wife that you were leaving her? And this was something you'd been thinking about for a long time?"

Brendan opened up his hands and clasped them together again. "Whadda'you think?"

She smiled at him, repeating the phrase she seemed to use constantly. "This is about you Brendan, not me."

Brendan pressed his hands up against his temple, pressured by the silence of the room. "My eldest son, he…knew something. Knows something. And he said he'd tell her if I didn't so…"

"Well it's understandable that these pressures have…"

"The person I want…they've married someone else." He knew she was observing the pronouns he used, carefully.

"And their marriage, what kind of impact has that had on you?"

Brendan smiled mirthlessly. "Feels worse than the goddamn car accident."

_**July – Eileen**_

Today was the day.

She'd never seen Brendan like this – up and walking, albeit cautious, without his swagger, without charging ahead like he had hot feet. She felt almost in control. It was a strange feeling, one that gave her butterflies as she unlocked the car and helped him into the passenger seat. He had this yellowy pallor to his face and she worried he was going to be sick so she rolled the window down so a gap of air could cool his face. He hadn't said much at all and neither had she. It was probably better that way. There was almost too much to say.

The car radio was on, playing irritating songs from a previous decade. Each one seemed to have a memory for her, one tied to the kids or with Brendan. She wondered if these songs had memories for him too, ones related to whichever lad he was fucking that month.

She'd asked herself every possible question since finding out about the affair. The usual sort which are screamed out in frustration: who? Where? How long? How many times? She couldn't bring herself to think of the physical side, the sordid mechanics of it all. She sobbed in the waiting room of a GUM clinic and sobbed again when every result came back negative. He hadn't given her anything, but he risked it, he must have. She'd not had anything physical with him, of meaning, for a very long time and it partly relieved her of feeling any dirtier, any less used.

It was when she started thinking of the emotional side, the lifetime they'd shared, the kids and their marriage that she questioned every little detail. She thought back on the tiniest events to try and find some hidden meaning, whether absences in their life meant they were the lowest of his priorities. It felt like that.

She couldn't confront him with all this when he was laid up as the victim in hospital. She wanted a level field, a strong man that she could get the truth out of. In the meantime she'd stewed over everything, been through his things. She'd found nothing of course, nothing but those blasted cufflinks. She'd thrown them into a river. She even went through bank statements and found nothing. Part of her even wondered whether she'd hallucinated the whole thing, invented it in shock. She couldn't speak to Amy about it, Amy was involved. She'd take sides and Eileen wasn't in the state to be judged and pitied, especially not by a single mother who got knocked up in a park by a teenager.

She had only one option.

It didn't take her long to find him. She had only waited until a day after Brendan was conscious before she tried to track him down. She'd saddled up to the nurses' station and as luck would have it for her, a young male nurse was filling out paperwork. A bit of flirting could get her everywhere. Unless he was her husband's sort. That was another thing she'd started questioning – what kind of men did he go for? Did he like being led, seduced? She couldn't imagine him being like that, but thinking of him pursuing men made her queasy.

"Hi," she said, tilting a soft smile underneath her concerned-wife face. "I was wondering if you could help me."

The young nurse, placed down his forms and gave her his attention.

"When my husband was admitted he was helped by another male nurse. From a different ward I think. Young, fair. A bit younger than you maybe. Not that you're old by any means," Eileen said, her hair flicked back. "I was wondering if you could tell me what ward he works on so I can pass on my thanks."

Once she told him Ste's name it wasn't hard to get the ward details and track him down. He was helping an old dear when she strode into the ward. He had looked up and the colour had sieved immediately from his face. He pretended not to have recognised her and eased the blue-rinser into an arm chair, seemingly bracing himself for Eileen's approach.

He had his hands on his hips like a cocky little bastard. Eileen hated every inch of him. "Can I help ya?" he asked in a syrupy voice, but with a noticeable quiver in his face.

Eileen had to keep her hands balled by her side. "Outside," she said barely able to contain the anger boiling through her. Seeing him up close was even worse. She started finding him attractive, seeing his full pink mouth that had done such lewd things with her husband.

"Er…I…"

"If you want me to tell the whole ward you've been fucking my husband then carry on," Eileen said, squared up close to him.

She watched on as he swallowed, avoiding eye contact and brushed away to speak to a senior nurse. He was excused and he trailed on behind her like a kicked puppy as she led them out the front of the hospital.

"Eileen, right, I –"

"No!" she said, her finger jabbing at him. "You've got no right to speak to me like you know me. And no right to make sorry excuses for yourself, do you hear me?"

She started lighting a cigarette. She hadn't smoked for years – Brendan hated it – but it still felt like an act of rebellion so she lit up as they took a bench outside the hospital.

"Explain then," she said, threatening him with unflinching eye contact. "Explain why and when and how it started, how long you've being having it off with him."

He played with his sleeves, swallowing up his words and looking down at his feet. _Years. It just happened – unexplainable_.

Eileen scoffed. "So your clothes just fell off? Who did it, who made the first moves? I bet you were yapping at him, begging."

Ste wiped his eyes. "It was nothing like that."

"Stop your sniffing. You're not the victim in this! He has a family. Three children!"

"I know!" Ste said in a half-wail. "I tried to stop it, over and over but you know what he's like…"

"I thought I did," she said. "Until I found out what you and him did."

"I didn't mean…"

"I don't want any of your apologies. I hope you sleep well at night knowing you've torn apart a family."

"It doesn't have to be like that. I won't see him ever again. He won't leave you and the kids. He worships ya. I'm leaving, alright? You'll never see me again."

"What good is that to me?" She snapped. "You leave town and he's in and out of another lad's bed." She knew her words stung him because he winced, recoiled. "Well I'm right aren't I? You're not the first or the last."

Ste shook his head.

Eileen let the long pause drag out between them, choosing her next words so they were as vicious as possible. "Brendan lies," she said, "Always has done. He lies to get what he want from people. Don't think you're anything special to him." She stood, turning to face him one last time. "If he told you he loved you, well, he said the same to me after he'd been with god knows how many men. I might not have known everything about him but I've lived with a liar long enough to know one." She looked scornfully at his wedding ring. "Go back to your husband and don't ever come near my family again."

Back now in the car, Eileen had driven further than she had anticipated without Brendan noticing they weren't driving home. It was totally the wrong direction. She pulled off the motorway and into a car park. Some scuzzy bed and breakfast she'd seen on Trip Advisor.

Brendan turned to her, brow low. "Everything okay?"

Eileen turned off the ignition and looked towards the backseat where his bags were packed. "I've not packed it all, but enough for a few days. You can come and collect the rest when I'm at work."

The confusion on his face didn't shift.

"You disgust me," - she said - "And I don't even want to look at you. All those years. All those _lies_." She could feel her skin growing warm, the rage choking up inside her.

"What…Eileen…"

"Fucking Ste! All this time you've been gay and shagging behind my back!"

"What?! Whatever you've been told…"

"Save it," she said. "I've seen it for myself. And I spoke to that little bastard you've been screwing. He told me everything. So don't you dare say it was an accident or a one-off. Give me that respect!"

Brendan sat stony, stunned. He clamoured for words in the silence. "Okay, okay!" he said finally, voice cracking. "Yeah the boy came to me. I was flattered, you know? Curious. Call it a midlife crisis. It was nothing. It meant nothing. You're my wife. My family. The love of my life. Eileen you're my world."

"You're gay."

"No I'm not. He…he wants me to be because he's infatuated with me. He won't leave me alone."

She shook her head, almost delirious with anger inflected laughter. "He's moved on Brendan. With his husband." She pretended to ignore the slump on his face, but it confirmed to her what she already knew. "It's over," she said. "I want a divorce."


End file.
